Maybe Then
by Archer of Mirkwood
Summary: COMPLETE. After the War of the Ring, Legolas meets a hottempered Elf named Tialyn. They eventually form a friendship. Does Legolas want more, and is Tialyn willing to supply it? With new dark forces arising, will love suffice?
1. Wedding Day

LONG DISCLAIMER, BUT ONE YOU SHOULD PROBABLY READ BEFORE READING MY STORY:

First and foremost, I do not own Legolas, Aragorn, Arwen, the Hobbits, etc. (and I am quite sure you all know whom I do not own – no living thing in Tolkien's work belongs to me). None of the places mentioned belong to me either. I also must admit that I have only read the books in their entirety twice, and have never delved deeper than the Lord of the Rings series. I plan on reading more works by Tolkien (especially The Silmarillion) as soon as I get the time, but for now, I do not know anything not included in the books. Also, it has been about two years since I have read the books, and I cannot be sure that I remember every little detail. The details that bothered me I took the time to research, but I cannot be one hundred percent sure that everything is correct.

I am also aware that some of the characters act differently in my story than they would in Tolkien's – this is _my _fan fiction, and the characters will thusly bend to my will. Aragorn and Legolas are both quite cheeky, which of course is off, but this story is from my perspective, and the way I portray them is not the way Tolkien did. They are portrayed in this way solely because I love writing them in this way (and hopefully you readers will understand and enjoy the characters from a different perspective, as well).

Also, my Sindarin is horrible, seeing as my only source is that Sindarin online dictionary – the original story was written with many lapses into the language, but this version has none because it was obviously not very well put together—who am I kidding? The Sindarin was horrible. So, my Elves do not speak Sindarin – sorry. I simply though no Sindarin at all would be much better than butchering the language as _well _as the characters.

Next, yes – I have a sort of "bubble soap" substance in the story that makes bubbles in the bathtub. So, gag me, but I put it in and left it in, and if you disagree with it then perhaps you should either 1) not read my story or 2) jump over that part (though I find it one of the more important scenes, though I am sure you could figure out the gist of things if you skipped it). There may be more things in this story that I am not quire sure they had in Middle-earth, but then again the objects were never addressed so maybe they were there and we just do not know! Also, the wedding – there is an aisle that is walked down, and it has come to my attention that there is actually no walking down the aisle in Middle-earth? Well, there is an aisle in this story, but it really is not a big deal, so… I guess you will just have to deal with that. Okay, bear with me.

Also, I realize Elrond had more children than just Arwen (Elrohir and Elladan, twins, yes I know), but they were not included in my story. Sorry.

If I am correct, a Mary Sue is when someone gets sucked from one world to another (either from this one to ME or from ME to this one, or something like that—I must say I hate these stories with a passion and would never take the time out of my busy life to read one). This is not a Mary Sue, in that case. Yes, it is a Legolas romance, but the female involved is an Elf from Rivendell and she is just…normal, I suppose. Flirtatious. Normal. Whatever.

Also, for the purpose of my story – my character believes that the Elves of Mirkwood hate the Elves of Rivendell and Lórien. I heard a rumor that the Mirkwood Elves do hate the Rivendell Elves, but maybe not the Lórien ones – I have no clue. I have done some research to prove the case either way, but can find nothing on it, so I left it how I imagined it (turns out, in the story, no one really hates anyone…whether that is true or not in Tolkien's Middle-earth, I have no idea).

Yes, I also am aware that after the War of the Ring, Legolas gathered quite a few Elves and set up his own kingdom and finally sailed with Gimli and lived with the Valinor. However, none of this is part of my story. Once again, sorry.

Okay, that clears everything up that I can possibly think of; I really felt I had to touch on everything. I do not want anyone to get upset with me because of the way I wrote my own story – so, if you have a serious pet peeve about any of these things I have mentioned, I would not suggest reading my story.

This is a story about a female Elf and Legolas, and the things that happen to them. The story begins at the wedding of Arwen and Aragorn (and I am not sure how popular that idea is, but it worked for my story). Some parts of the story are funny, some parts are serious – it is just a story. I would appreciate input, but not the insulting kind, for that is never helpful. I would also appreciate any praise (of course!) and anything else you kind readers have to say. With that, let the story begin.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally, wedding day had come. Arwen and Aragorn were to be betrothed, and after all that business in the East, they had returned to Gondor to get married – and here I was, facing the wall in Aragorn's dressing chamber, listening to his tongue-clucking and fast pacing and mumbling about his abhorrence of large ceremonies, especially ones in which he was the focus. I giggled every time I heard the words "pointless" and "embarrassing."

"Aragorn, honestly, shut up about the wedding. You should be excited that you're finally getting hitched! And to an Elf as gorgeous as," I stopped for dramatic effect, "Arwen." Her name rolled off my tongue in an Elvish manner, and Aragorn gave me a wry glare, which only induced more sadistic laughter from me.

"As an Elf of Rivendell," Aragorn retorted nastily, "I would think you would understand the annoyances of large, intricate ceremonies."

"Ah, and the sarcasm returns," I said, smiling.

"If only it were you I was marrying," Aragorn's smile turned sneaky, and he moved close enough to wrap his arms around my body, which sent me into a very out-of-character fit of squeals.

"Well, as it so happens, I'm not the one you're marrying," I replied, wrenching myself free of his grasp and putting on my best scolding face. "And you had better be ready, because--" But before I could finish, an impressive flourish of music met my ears. The Men were playing the horns, announcing the beginning of the ceremony. A look of horror dawned on Aragorn's face.

"Tialyn, I cannot do this!" The look on his face was utter terror, and I could not help but laugh.

"Aragorn, go on, you are getting married and that is all there is to it! You have no choice in the matter anymore," I said, pushing him to the door. "Come on, I'll go with you, but then I have to get my seat or I will not be able to see the famous kiss – and I could not miss that for the world," I winked at him, but the shadow of horror still clung to his clean-shaven face. "Don't be a bonehead, go!" I pushed him out of the door, and he stumbled onto the pavement at the end of the aisle. I suppressed a grin and hurried to my seat in the fifth row among the Halflings of the Shire. They were all whispering amongst themselves—about pipeweed, if my Elf ears were not mistaken—and were barely paying attention to the goings-on of the ceremony.

The horns stopped suddenly, as if for a breath of air, and began again in another tune. I recognized this as the tune routinely played when the bride walks down the aisle, so we all stood and turned to watch Arwen walk towards us.

She looked amazing. Arwen Undomiel, her long, dark hair braided in a single pleat, covered with a sheer white veil that grew with ferocity and stopped 100 feet behind her. She walked down the aisle so gracefully that I could not tell she was moving. I was somewhat entranced by her beauty, as was the entire audience, and I must admit that most of the ceremony was utterly unmemorable simply because we were all staring at Arwen and the glow that radiated from her very existence. The whole ordeal went on as such for the next what felt like eternity until my feet found themselves near a table of food at the reception.

"Tialyn," a vaguely familiar gruff voice said. I looked up from my wine glass to see a handsome now-married man. "I have not seen you since before the ceremony. I was hoping my favorite Elf would find me to assure me that marriage does not necessarily mean celibacy before she began taking advantage of the vast wealth of the Halfelven," Aragorn said, nodding toward the food I had begun inadvertently stuffing into my mouth.

"Argorn," I stumbled. "Ar_a_gorn!" I corrected myself. He squinted his eyes at me and broke into hearty laughter.

"How much have you had to drink?" he chortled.

"Drink?" I asked quizzically, hiding the wine glass in my hand what I thought was inconspicuously behind my back, while accidentally spilling half of it down the back of my dress. Thank goodness this was white wine—not usually my taste, but in this case, to my advantage.

"Drink? Enough to intoxicate an Elf," I heard a sweet, soft, yet masculine voice say from behind me, "Which is saying something." I tried to turn around to see my attacker, but my shoe caught on my dress and I realized that I had begun to fall. I felt the ground moving closer to my face and, like an idiot, I was unable to stop myself from falling. Just as I thought I had surely rendered myself unconscious, I felt strong, yet slender arms wrap nimbly around my torso. The ground moved away again, and I regained balance. "Try to be more careful next time," the soft voice joked.

"Well perhaps you should not sneak up behind me," I muttered, idly dusting off my dress.

"Should you not be thanking him, Tia? I am quite sure that if it were not for his Elven reflexes, your face might not be as beautiful as it usually is," Aragorn mused. I furrowed my brow at him as I followed his gaze to my savior. Standing next to me was an Elf, at least half a foot taller than I. His golden blond hair fell past his shoulders to his mid-back. The golden locks that would be in his face were pleated back on either side and met in a small ponytail behind his head. His tunic was silver and shimmering, his shoes a deep green. His arms and legs were thing, but powerful, and his clothes outlined his brawny muscles beautifully. The most prominent characteristic of this beautiful creature, however, were his eyes – an almost honey-brown that stood in stark contrast to his pale skin. Damn, this Elf was gorgeous. A surge of energy passed through my body and I shuddered.

"Nice to meet you," I managed after staring at him for another few minutes. He grinned, spreading his pale, thin lips to reveal perfectly white teeth.

"And you," he replied. "Let me introduce myself. My name is Legolas Greenleaf." He stuck out his hand.

Now, even in my intoxicated state, I realized who this Elf really was. Not only one of the Nine Walkers who helped win numerous battles of which I was not even aware, and who helped, alongside my favorite Man, save Middle Earth – he was also the Prince of Mirkwood, or Eryn Lasgalen, the Wood of Greenleaves, as it was now called (but most still referred to it by its older name) – a part, a _major_ part, of a group of Silvan Elves who, up until now, kept to themselves and, rumor had it, hated the Elves of Imladris and Lórien for their splendid buildings (monstrosities) and vast wealth. Well, gag me with a dull arrow but I now anted nothing to do with the gorgeous Elf or his outstretched hand.

"Pleasure," I sneered, turning back to Aragorn. "Perhaps I'll see you later, _Lord_ Aragorn," and I fumbled away, leaving Aragorn and Princey boy in stunned silence.


	2. Humiliation

The next morning I woke up on the marble floor of a Gondorian room I did not recognize. I heard snoring beside me, and I rolled over with great effort to view the obstruction of my sleep. A small form met my eyes – a tiny body with a head covered in sandy blond hair; the blanket covering this small fellow moved up and down with each breath he took. I yawned and stretched, pulling myself out from underneath the blankets I had slept with. How I had gotten here last night I did not remember, but I was obviously sleeping with the Halflings.

I stood and walked to what I guessed was the bathroom. It was a grand room with a white porcelain bathtub and a huge mirror. A bath would be perfect, I thought, slipping off my dress from the night before and letting it lie on the floor while I turned on the hot water. After a few minutes, the bathtub was filled with hot water, and I dipped my body slowly beneath the surface and exhaled, reaching for the bubble soap I saw on the floor near the tub.

I soaked in the hot water and bubbles for an hour, every now and then draining some water and running more hot water to keep from freezing. The nauseous feeling in my stomach caused by excessive drinking had disappeared, and the smell of alcohol had vanished from my skin. I had almost fallen asleep again when I heard the bathroom door open and shut. Shit. It could be anyone, I thought. To avoid my own humiliation, I closed my eyes and instantly assumed my best fast-asleep face in hopes that whoever had walked in would realize someone else was there and would immediately leave the room, unembarrassed because I was not awake. I listened carefully and heard light footsteps walking, almost creeping, toward me. Thank Eru I had thought of the bubble soap – but I was intensely aware of the fact that the person in the bathroom with me was trying not to wake me up, and was staring at me.

I felt the person kneel down next to the tub. I tried not to flinch when I felt the person's face get closer. Suddenly, I felt lips brush against my forehead – in the split second before I opened my eyes, I shuddered with pleasure. I had no idea who this was, and yet the kiss alone made my whole body rigid. When my eyes popped open, I grabbed at the neck of the person who so pretentiously kissed me – and made me enjoy it. My sharp blue eyes met and melted honey brown eyes so fast that he whimpered. Legolas.

"What in the name of Illuvatar do you think you are doing?" I screamed, staring Legolas down.

"I'm sorry, Tialyn!" he gasped as I let go of his pulsing neck.

"You! What makes you think you can come in here while I am bathing and kiss me? Kiss me, of all things? What was going through your head?" I yelled, incredulous at his audacity. He looked confused, and he opened his mouth to protest.

"But, Tialyn, last night—" he began.

"_Last night_ I stuck up my nose at you and your egotism! What part of that did you mistake for kindness?" I could not stop screaming. His eyes pleaded with me to quiet down.

"Last night," he started again slowly, "_You _kissed _me_." I blinked dubiously at him. He looked at me with the dearest sincerity, and I saw a glimmer of hope for my recollection, but this was in vain.

"I…what?" I asked, embarrassed, lowering my voice.

"I…" A look of understanding dawned on his beautiful, pitiful face. "Oh my… I… I'm so sorry," he mumbled, standing up and bolting out of the bathroom so fast I had no room to speak. Shit. Oh shit, what had I done? I wondered if I kissed well – or if _he _did – _no_!

Later that day, I walked with determination to the King's House, inside the foyer, and up the stairs to the room where I knew Aragorn and Arwen would have stayed the night before. I (almost) regretted knocking on their bedroom door and interrupting any festivities that might have been going on. Aragorn, shirtless and dazed, answered.

"Aragorn, I just wanted to say goodbye. I will have to be leaving early," I faltered, letting m eyes trail from his face to his tight chest, to the muscles that rippled across his stomach as he raised his arms in the air and stretched. "It's noon," I laughed, seeing I had woken him up.

"I know," he smiled comfortably. "You're leaving? So soon? And I thought you had such a lovely time last night," he winked. Oh no. Please tell me he did not see…

"What?" I asked, hoping he was referring to my intoxication.

"You and Legolas," he smirked, poking my stomach with his index finger and raising his eyebrows in a cheeky sort of way. Shit. Shit shit shit.

"Oh, no…um…" I grabbed at words in the dark, but found none to describe my situation. What could I say? I knew how high a favor Aragorn held Legolas in, and I certainly did not want to display my _full _distaste for the narcissistic mess that he was, and…Eru, was I _that _drunk last night? "I mean, yes…but, er, I was a little intoxicated and I guess, well, that was a mistake…"

"You don't even remember, do you?" Aragorn laughed. "Oh, Tia."

"Huh?" I asked, surprised.

"I know you too well," Aragorn sighed.

"Oh, Aragorn, I'm so humiliated, and so is he because he knows that I forgot and that humiliates him which only humiliates me more, and I can't possibly stay any long--" I began, but Aragorn cut me off by holding up his hand.

"Just don't leave Gondor yet, okay?" he implored, shutting the door in my face. Argh. I dropped my eyes to the floor in front of the door. It opened again and Aragorn's head peeked out. "By the way, there's a party tonight. Come," he said before shutting the door again. Oh, just what I needed, to be around a thousand Men, Elves, Dwarves, and Hobbits who probably also witnessed the infamous kiss. I wondered if it was a tongue kiss or just a peck. Shit, everyone else knew more about the incident than I did. Brilliant.


	3. Meeting Anathor

I decided I would go to the party that night. I spent the afternoon walking around Minas Tirith, familiarizing myself with its structure and pearly whiteness, and letting my eyes adjust themselves to the look of the Men who waltzed around in the city. Few people spoke to me; rather, their eyes traveled to my ears and the silence turned into hushed whispers about my heritage and how I must be related to Arwen, because of course the house of the Halfelven was the only house of Elves (end sarcasm). I admit my long, deep auburn hair denoted that I was not a woodland Elf, but I doubt the lesser Men of Gondor knew much of the races of Elves anyway.

The day passed this way, and I finally retired to the room where I had found myself that morning. My bag was against the wall, and the Halflings were nowhere to be seen. I decided they must have relocated the Halflings, and this room must be mine only. I searched through my bag and found the perfect outfit – my best dress that I could not wear to the wedding because it was too sexy to wear to a formal event. The dress was long and deep, blood red with black ribbons that tied up the side letting a half-an-inch strip of skin show from underneath my arms to my feet on both sides. The straps were thin and silky, and the front dipped neatly to the middle of my breasts, cleverly showing off enough, but not too much, cleavage. The bottom folded at my feet and swept the floor elegantly. I pulled my red hair back from my face and let the curls at the ends cascade to my butt. The blood red coloring I had received from Aragorn as a gift spread neatly over my lips, and I was ready. This outfit may not help the Prince's fascination, but perhaps it would attract the darker, more real Elves of Imladris or the golden, shining, soft Silvan Elves of Lórien.

As I walked into the foyer of the Great Hall of Feasts, I felt everyone's eyes move to me. I smiled politely at those I recognized. I practiced the best Arwen-gliding walk that I could muster and floated past the staring eyes. I found Aragorn, talking animatedly to an Elf I did not recognize. Aragorn's back was toward me. I smiled and tapped his shoulder, batting my eyelashes for approval as his eyes glided over me. He whistled. "God, Tia, you look amazing." I could see his excitement. He kept looking me up and down, his eyes widening. I resisted the urge to glance at his crotch, and good thing because Arwen walked up. She was clad in a deep forest green, her hair loose and wavy. She smiled at me.

"You look gorgeous," she breathed

"Thanks," I said, smiling back at Aragorn and waving goodbye before gliding way into the room connected to the foyer on the right. This room was a maroon red; tables dotted the floor, covered in food, wine, and beer. I picked up a glass of wine from the nearest wine table and nodded gratefully at the person pouring the wine. He blushed in reply, and I smiled, turning away and gliding into a corner where I could stand by myself.

After two glasses of wine, I decided to find Aragorn again, seeing as he was the only one I knew in Gondor besides Arwen, and, of course, Legolas. I searched the foyer, and more people stared, but no Aragorn or Arwen to be seen. All of a sudden, I felt someone grab my wrist. I spun around to view my attacker. It was the blond-headed Elf who I had seen Aragorn talking to when I walked in.

"My lady," he said, bowing and kissing my knuckles. He looked up at me from his bow with his silver blue eyes. A woodland Elf – it was so obvious he was part of that arrogant clan of Mirkwood Elves, probably a kinsman of Legolas the Vain.

"Sir," I replied in my nicest I-hate-you voice possible, prying my hand from his grasp.

"My name is Anathor," he said, standing up straight. I nodded, trying to walk away. "And your name, miss?" he persisted. This Elf was far from ugly, but his attitude sent warning signals to my brain.

"Tialyn, and I'm looking for someone right now, so if you will excuse me," I said curtly, trying to get away. He grabbed my wrist again.

"I would very much like a dance," he said in his deep, almost threatening voice, nodding toward the ballroom.

"Well, perhaps later, but I really need to find—"

"Tialyn!" a familiar, soft voice said. Legolas came into my line of vision, smiling with almost too much familiarity. "I've been looking for you too. Aragorn wants to see you. Let me escort you. Forgive us, Anathor," Legolas said primly to the Elf, who glared but released my wrist. Legolas pulled me up the stairs and away from Anathor. By the grace of Eru.

"Thank you," I breathed when we vanished into an empty, dark guest room upstairs. Legolas nodded wordlessly, searching for the light switch, but to no avail. With my cunning Elf vision, the bed in the room was not hard to see, and I sat down on it in relief. Legolas gave up searching for the switch and instead sat down next to me. He could tell I was flustered and he put one large, strong hand on my shoulder. I flinched. "Do not touch me," I said, too snootily. He took his hand away, rolling his eyes.

"That Elf, Anathor, is bad news. You should really be careful," he said, looking around until he realized the switch was a string near the ceiling. He got up and pulled it. The light must have thrown good shadows my way because I heard his breath catch when he looked back at me. I guessed he had only seen my back downstairs and was in to much of a hurry to pry me from Anathor that he had not noticed the intricacy of the sides of the dress, or the way it framed my front side, or my red, red lips. Legolas bit his lower lip and breathed out slowly, staring at my cleavage.

"Ex_cuse_ me!" I interjected, folding my arms over my breasts. I had let him have a small taste, but I was not going to be eye candy for long. Legolas' eyes snapped back up to mine, a cheeky grin on his face.

"Like I…said," he started again carefully, but I guess the words caught in his throat because he stopped, letting his eyes caress my body again. I stood up rapidly, pushing past him. I stopped at the doorway and turned to look at him.

"Thank you, but next time, I can handle myself." I started walking away.

"Tialyn!" he said. I turned my head to look at him. "Concerning last night," I winced, "Only Aragorn saw…and forgive me, I was a little intoxicated myself, and I was not aware of how far gone you were. Please excuse my impudence this morning." Said like a pro, I thought. He went on, "But, you really ought to give me a second chance. I am not the kind to give up easily, and I think you will find that quality of mine slightly intriguing." My eyes suddenly moved to his to see if he was joking. A coy smile played on his lips, and his eyes dared me to dislike him. He took a few steps closer to me and made a move like he was about to slip one arm around me.

"Cheek!" I exclaimed, moving slightly out of his reach. A grin spread across his face. "Well, I guess I _don't _have you figured out, because that was the last thing I expected from _you_, sir," I said before turning and walking out of the room, down the stairs and back into the foyer. Damn him. What kind of games did he think I was willing to play? Cheek was sincerely the last quality I expected the Prince of Mirkwood to possess. Egotism, pride, and an I'm-better-than-you air I expected, but cheek? Shit, _was_ I intrigued? I decided to think on it later.

I walked into the ballroom and eyes followed me. I found another wine table and graciously took advantage, hoping to deter any Elf with an inkling of asking me to dance.

"Tia," a gruff voice said. Aragorn. I grinned and found his face. "Damn it all, you are a fox," he whistled again, snaking his arm around me.

"Why Aragorn, get your arm off me! You're a married man now," I laughed. He raised his eyebrows suggestively and got close enough to my face to growl in my ear.

"And if I were not--" he let his arm slide further down my back.

"You would never dream of doing such a thing!" I spun out of his grasp and looked at him very seriously. "Now where is wifey poo, because I am quite certain that she would not approve."

"Wifey poo is off being the social rabbit that she is, and here I am, standing with the most beautiful Elf at the party, and she is turning me down!" Aragorn's boldness was always adorable, and I could not help but blush. It was obvious he had had his share of alcohol that night.

"There, there, Aragorn. An Elf could not possibly love a man as gruff as you," to which his eyes widened in protest, "Not _this_ Elf, for I have class _and _standards."

"Why you little!" He began tickling me, which almost made me drop the wine glass that was still clutched in my left hand. I wriggled away, overcome with amusement. We went on like this for a while when all of a sudden, I felt a tap on my shoulder. After watching Aragorn fall to the ground, doubled over in laughter, I wiped my tearful eyes and turned around.

"Tialyn," the sickeningly suggestive voice of Anathor said. "I believe a dance is in order." He said this as more of a statement than a request. By now, Aragorn had stood back up and stopped laughing.

"Anathor!" Aragorn greeted him kindly. "Please, do not let me come in between you and your prey," he winked. I was about to object to the unflattering allusion of me to anyone's 'prey,' but before I could say a word, Aragorn had walked off and I was being pulled to the dance floor.

Anathor was obviously a little drunk himself; his breath reeked of beer and his steps were clumsy. He forcefully grabbed my waist with one hand, and grabbed my hand with the other, and we took off in a waltz to the music.

"You are beautiful," Anathor slurred. I lowered my head in a silent thank-you; we were spinning too fast for me to actually open my mouth without wanting to throw up all over him. "You really should let me take you to my room tonight. I have a room here in the castle, and we could get to know one another more intimately. Who knows, I may even surprise you," he suggested. I shook my head in disapproval. "No? Well, I think you may change your mind by the end of this evening," he said, squeezing my hand tighter and my waist so hard I thought my hip might cave in. I looked at him as if he were a murderer, and he took his hand off my waist and put it on my back, pulling me ominously closer. The dance kept going; the music would not stop. I was caught in perpetuity and I could not escape from the vile creature I was endlessly attached to. After a few more hours, it seemed, he finally leaned his head closer to mine and whispered in my ear, "You _will _be escorted to my room tonight. I will see to that." I gulped in fright, and was relieved when the music actually stopped. He was forced to let me go, and I pushed myself away from him faster than I had been swept onto the floor. "I will see you later, my lady," he said, bowing down again, and with a menacing look, he walked off.


	4. Legolas' Story

I was too stunned to talk and too sick to move, so I stood in the middle of the dance floor, breathing hard and trying not to faint from the nausea and worry. After a few moments, I was able to move myself off the dance floor and near another table of wine. I picked up the wine glass and downed it like a beer, putting the empty glass back on the table and picking up another one. I had to get out. I should have left Gondor this morning.

As I walked out of the ballroom, hurrying to get back to my room and pack my things, I ran into someone so hard that we both fell down, him on the ground and I on top of him.

"You must learn to stop being so clumsy," Legolas said from under me. I pushed myself up with my hands on either side of him.

"I—I'm sorry—I was in a hurry and I—I didn't see you—" I groped for words.

"Tialyn, it's alright. I quite liked it," he smiled. I pushed myself off of him and stood up, his body following mine. "You look anxious, are you alright?"

"Yes, I—well, I think I should go," I said hurriedly.

"Go where?" he looked genuinely concerned. All trace of cheek had been erased from his face.

"Back to my room—back to Imladris, both, I don't know." I must have sounded crazy, and the look on Legolas' face was getting more and more tense. He furrowed his brow at me.

"Let me come with you." His honey brown eyes swung from one of mine to the other, and I could see he was sincere. I sighed and without indicating if that was alright or not, I walked out of the Great Hall, hearing Legolas' hurried footsteps behind me.

"Know of any place we can get a good bottle of wine?" I asked, slowing to allow him to walk beside me. After all, if I could not stay at the Great Hall and drink, I might as well enjoy myself elsewhere.

"Of course I do," Legolas grinned, grabbing my arm and pulling me to the left. We walked down the street a little way until we reached a small, marble shop with a sign that read "O'LUNNEY'S" hanging over the entrance. Legolas walked inside first, and I followed. The store was small but homey; it smelled of sweet grapes mixed with dust. The floor was hardwood, and aisles were crafted by tall, wide, shelves made of a burgundy wood, stacked with every kind of wine imaginable. The scene was almost breathtaking. He nodded to the right, to the first aisle labeled "Red Wines." I smiled in approval and we both walked down the aisle, squinting at names and dates. Finally, Legolas picked out a wine bottle labeled "South Farthing," year 1296. I nodded in agreement, and we walked out of the store opening the bottle.

"Legolas, you really have very good taste," I said, taking my second swig of wine.

"I must say I hear that a lot," he winked, snatching the bottle from me and downing a bit.

"Oh, you! You're just ridiculous," I laughed. We joked all the way back to my room about random, silly things. When we finally got back, the bottle of wine was half empty.

"Seriously, Legolas, what is it with you Mirkwood folk?" I asked without inviting him inside. He must have been feeling as open as I was, because he walked in behind me and plopped down on the nearest chair. The room I was staying in (and I say room, but it was more like a marble cabin) was rather large for one person. Chairs were set up at a small table in the left corner on the wall of the door. A medium-sized window with curtains drawn overlooked the street on the opposite side. My pallet on the floor was bigger and softer-looking than I remembered, and the bathroom – well, the large bathroom – was on the right side of the room. The opposite side of the room also featured a fireplace that looked as if it had never been used. I pulled a chair out and sat across the table from Legolas, slamming the wine bottle down on the table.

"What do you mean, Mirkwood folk?" he asked, taking a sip of the wine.

"I mean, you Elves are all high-and-mighty, thinking you're the best because you like trees more than the rest of us. I mean, I like trees of course, but why feel sympathy or compassion for them? Sure, I talk to them every once in a while but, and maybe it's just me, but they never talk back!" I said all of this in one breath and found myself gasping for air at the end of my sentence.

"You should come to Mirkwood with me after we leave Gondor," he said with a very serious look on his face. I nearly spit out the wine in my mouth.

"To Mirkwood?" I sputtered after choking down the wine. "I could not possibly. I would be so out of place."

"I really doubt that, Tia," he said, using my nickname for the first time. The look on his face was still utterly serious; so serious, in fact, that I could not help but start laughing. "What?" he asked, incredulously. I kept laughing, so hard I started crying.

"Oh, Legolas, just the thought of me coming to Mirkwood. It's just so silly," I gasped.

"I'm not being silly, I'm being serious!" He looked mildly insulted.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry," I said, the laughter subsiding.

"Tell me about yourself, Tialyn," Legolas said, taking another swig of wine. "You know about me. I'm a Prince of Tree-Loving Mirkwood, but I know nothing of you."

"It really is not that interesting of a tale, Legolas," I said, but the look on his face was one of utter curiosity, so I sighed and went on. "Well, I am from Imladris, which is how I know Aragorn so well. We are best friends." Legolas harrumphed. "What?" I asked quizzically.

"Anyone would think you two are lovers, the way you behave around one another," he said matter-of-factly. My eyes widened in disbelief.

"_What_? Aragorn and I?"

"Oh, do not pretend you do not know." I sighed in concession.

"We are just very close friends, and we once had a thing, but we decided it was much too ridiculous and that we were better as friends, or flirting buddies, or what-have-you," I said, "Now if I can continue," I glanced at him. He smiled and nodded for me to carry on. "So, I live in Imladris. My family—well, my parents sailed off to the Grey Havens with the rest of the Elves of Imladris. I stayed behind."

"Why would you not go with your family?"

"I did not want to leave my home. For thousands of years, Imladris has been my home, and the home of my ancestors. I know it is the time of the Man to rule Middle-earth, and with that I have no problem, because they were able to exist in this world when the time of the Elves was nigh. Besides, Middle-earth is too good of a place to leave, and it would mean leaving Aragorn to live in an undisturbed marriage, and I simply could not have that," I smiled smugly. Legolas shook his head and laughed, taking another sip of the wine. I went on. "I was an only child, so my parents were my only family besides my friends. Most of them left, too, but – I just love Imladris too much to leave, and there is too much in this world I have not yet discovered. I was not ready to leave with the rest."

"You do know there will be one last ship to the Undying Lands," Legolas interjected. "You could still go."

"I would never dream of it. I miss my parents, but I know they are safe and happy. Now I have to live out my life where I want to." Legolas nodded, taking another sip of the wine, putting the bottle down on the table, putting both his elbows on the table and resting his head in his hands. "Tell me of the journey you took, Legolas, and the people you met, the places you went. I would so love to visit them all."

"You could start with Mirkwood," Legolas replied, his eyes dancing and a shameless smile spreading across his lips. I laughed and shook my head. "My favorite place I have visited was Lórien." This surprised me. "The whole place was so beautiful; the trees were glowing and Galadriel…" his sentence trailed off and he was lost in thought. I cleared my throat to get him to continue. "Goheno nin," he said softly. "Galadriel must be the most beautiful Elf ever created. And her kingdom, Lórien – the place brings back so many memories. The trees spoke of Gandalf's fall. We did not know then that he would ever return." Legolas lowered his eyes in sadness.

"But he did return," I said, and his honey brown eyes looked up at me. I put my elbows on the table too and rested my head in my hands, mocking him. "And you all made it through to the end."

"Not all," Legolas corrected. "We lost Boromir."

"Tell me the whole story," I begged, "from the beginning."

So Legolas began, from every minute detail of the Council of Elrond, to the happenings of the Misty Mountains and Moria, to Lórien and beyond. His tale of Helms Deep was one of the darkest, and his ride with Aragorn, Gimli, and the rest to the Black Gate of Mordor. It was morning when Legolas finally finished, and I was in tears. He obviously had not noticed I had started crying, and when he finished and glanced at me, a look of alarm spread over his face. "Tialyn," he said softly. I looked at him and wiped my eyes, smiling.

"I just had no idea. I do not think any of us did," I said. "But now everyone will." Legolas nodded and sighed. "You have been through so much. I cannot imagine that life could possibly be the same for you now."

"It is difficult to return to the way things were, but most of us seem to be making the best of it. Aragorn got married, Gimli and I have had numerous drinking contests, and the Hobbits are handling themselves quite well; Sam keeps talking about some girl named Rosie and how he cannot wait to return home. The only one that seems disillusioned with it all is Frodo. I am not sure what will come of him," Legolas said sadly. I looked out the window, and his gaze followed mine. "You must be tired," he said, standing.

"No, I'm not tired," I replied. "I want to hear the story again." Legolas smiled and shook his head.

"I'm afraid I cannot bring myself to tell it again, but I have heard that Frodo plans on writing it down as Bilbo wrote down his adventures, so I am sure you will be able to read it all some day. But, I must take leave of you now. Today is the day I return to Mirkwood, and I must get my things," Legolas said, disheartened with the idea of returning home.

"Now?" I asked, disappointed.

"Come with me," Legolas said convincingly, stretching out his hand. I stood and took it.

"I will," I replied. Legolas smiled and let go of my hand.

"I will be back here in a short while," he said, turning to leave.

"I will wait for you here," I said. Legolas left and I began hurriedly packing my things. I wondered what a trip to Mirkwood would be like. This was crazy; I was going to visit Mirkwood with the Prince himself, and I was leaving Gondor so early. I barely knew this Elf, and I was enchanted by his story, his storytelling, and his eyes. Damn his eyes. A while later, I heard horse hooves outside of my cottage, and I ran to the door. The scene was not as I expected.

"You disappeared last night," Anathor said, sliding off his raven black horse. I gulped.

"You think I was going to take you up on your offer when I just met you?" I asked defiantly, moving a little further inside the door as he moved closer. If he was wearing the same clothes as last night I could not tell; I barely recognized him now. I must not have gotten a good look at him last night, but now I could tell how disgustingly seductive this Elf was. His long blond hair flowed down his back, and his dark, beady eyes bored menacingly into mine. He was agile, I could tell from the way he slid off his horse.

"A very wise decision," Anathor replied, bowing. This Elf was always finding an excuse to bow before me. "A prude, if you will."

"Excuse me?" I tried to sound threatening, but I must have looked petrified because he smirked at me and continued to walk closer. "I would very much appreciate it if you stayed away," I suggested.

"Oh, but I could not possibly, my lady," he replied, moving ever closer. I moved into my room, looking around and wondering if there was anything nearby I could defend myself with. Shit.

"Sir, I did not invite you into my room," I insisted as he stepped onto the threshold.

"I invite myself then – is that rude?" he grinned maliciously and took another step forward.

"I'll scream! You will not ever be allowed back into Gondor," I threatened.

"Please," he said in a sardonic tone of voice, "scream." I took another step backward to find my back pressed against the wall, nothing around me to protect myself. Anathor moved closer, fast, and within a second he was pressed against me, his face almost touching mine. I turned to avoid the repugnant odor of his breath. He put one hand around my back forcefully and pulled me closer, if that was possible. He began kissing my neck, his tongue slipping out every now and then to make contact with the back of my ears. I tried to scream but realized his other hand was covering my mouth, and the scream came out a muffled squeal. The uncomfortable, disgusted feeling tingled up my body so fast I thought I would hurl, which may have been to my benefit because I am sure that would have been quite repulsive. However, the vomit never came and I was stuck struggling against Anathor. My legs would not move so I could not set up a meeting between my knee and his crotch – he was too close and I was too revolted to even move. I tried to bite down on his hand but it was too big. I tried to squirm but he was too strong. "I like a struggle," he whispered in my ear before biting the sensitive, pointy tip. I yelped in pain. I could not escape.


	5. Farewells

All of a sudden, Anathor was wrenched away from me and thrown down on the ground. Before I even saw him fall, an arrow in a bow was touching the tip of his nose, an angry Legolas looming over him.

"Legolas, I can ex--" he started, but Legolas pulled on the bow threateningly.

"I will kill you if you make another sound," Legolas said so menacingly that I was quite sure he was serious. Okay, so angry was an understatement. Legolas threw his bow and arrow on the ground and grabbed the front of Anathor's tunic, pulling him up. "If you come near her again, I will put an arrow in your chest, slit your throat and bleed you dry," Legolas warned, a severe look in his honey brown eyes. Anathor looked terrified, and as soon as Legolas let go of his shirt, he ran out to his horse, mounted it, and rode off.

As I watched the scene play out before my eyes, my breath came back to me. I had been so horrified that I had been unable to move or breathe properly, and as soon as Anathor disappeared, the feeling came back to my hands and feet and I stepped forward, breathing hard. Legolas had been staring at the door Anathor had just exited out of with a look of malice and rage, like the door had wronged him in some way. When I finally stepped forward, Legolas spun around and immediately ran up to me, grabbing my hands.

"Tialyn, oh, Tialyn, are you alright? I mean, I know you are of course not alright but did he harm you? Are you hurt? If you are, I swear I will find him and kill him. Oh," he let go of my hands to wrap his arms around my neck. "Tell me he did not hurt you. Tell me this was not my fault."

"Leglath," I said into his clothes. He pulled me away and put both hands on my shoulders, leveling his face with mine and staring into my eyes.

"Tell me you are alright."

"Legolas, I'm fine," I said. "He just scared me." Legolas wrapped his arms around me again, and I was forced to breathe in his scent – which, I must admit, was not bad. Well – okay it was amazing. He let me go after a few minutes, and looked into my eyes again.

"This was my fault. I am so sorry."

"Legolas, how was this your fault? It is my own. He threatened me last night, but I was sure he was just drunk. Now I know better," I said, looking at the floor.

"He threatened you _last night _and you told _no one_?" Legolas' eyes widened in disbelief. "Tialyn, how could you be so stupid?"

"What?" I asked, incredulously. I backed away from him, disgusted.

"I'm sorry, oh Eru, forgive me, I am sorry," Legolas said, moving toward me again and putting his arms around me. "I was just so worried." I smiled, burying my face in his shoulder.

"I'm fine," I repeated, putting my arms around him too. "Look, my things are packed. Let us just leave here." Legolas nodded, letting me go to pick up my bag. He carried it outside and strapped it to the brown horse standing outside; I followed behind him. "We have to say goodbye to Aragorn," I remembered.

"Of course," Legolas agreed, and he hopped onto the horse agilely. "I have already bid my other friends goodbye. I just have Aragorn left to visit." He reached out his hand and I took it, trying to be as nimble as he while throwing myself behind him. He pulled my arms around him and we rode up to the King's House.

"Leaving so soon, friends?" Aragorn asked from his seat on the marble risings outside upon seeing us on horseback. "And together?" he asked, winking and standing to help me off the horse. I took his hand and jumped down.

"No sass from you," I warned, pointing my finger in his face and grinning. "I will miss you, you rascal." I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. He hugged me back, pulled away, and rested both hands on either side of my face.

"Be careful out there, and if too much time passes before I see you again, I will find you and give you a spanking for waiting so long to visit," Aragorn said, grinning. He pecked me on my lips, fast but gingerly, and let go of my face to turn to Legolas. Legolas stood in front of Aragorn, smiling a warm smile. Aragorn put his hands on Legolas' shoulders. "Take care of her, you hear?" Aragorn asked. Legolas smiled and embraced his friend.

"Listen, Aragorn," Legolas said with sudden seriousness as he pulled away. "Anathor attacked Tialyn this morning."

"_What_?" Aragorn searched his eyes to see if he was joking, and glanced at me to see the look in my eyes. "What did he do?"

"Oh, Aragorn, it's not a problem. Just tell others to be careful, alright?" I interjected.

"He would have hurt her if I had not shown up when I did," Legolas countered. Aragorn's eyes widened irately.

"I will have his head," Aragorn breathed.

"I almost did," Legolas replied. "Just do not let Arwen get anywhere near him."

"He will be banished from Gondor as long as I am King," Aragorn said angrily. Legolas nodded and embraced his friend again. Aragorn came to me and kissed me on the cheek. "Be wary, and I will miss you."

"I will miss you too," I replied, nearly in tears. The big goon was making me cry. I hugged him once more and helped myself onto the horse behind Legolas, wrapping my arms around his stomach again. Legolas nodded and I waved, and we trotted on the horse out of Minas Tirith. "How long is it to Mirkwood?" I asked.

"Well, we must first start on the road to Osgiliath, and then follow the River Anduin north into North Ithilien, and then west through Anórien into Rohan, and north again until we reach the edge of Mirkwood. We go around Dol Guldur and a bit further north, and then we are home!" Legolas exclaimed. I was dizzy with names of places I had never heard of, and I was afraid the trip would take months.

"How long is that in days?" I asked giddily. Legolas laughed.

"I would say…seven days," he replied, calculating in his head. This would be a long seven days.


	6. Mirkwood

After hours of riding, I began to fall asleep against Legolas' back. In my moment of waking, I found the horse slowing and eventually come to a stop. "Tialyn," Legolas whispered. I raised my head off his back and glared sleepily at him.

"Yes?" I asked, annoyed.

"We stop to sleep now," he said. I looked around us and could see nothing at first until my Elf eyes adjusted to the darkness. It must have been past midnight, and I groaned groggily. Legolas hopped off the horse and helped me off.

"What exactly do we have to sleep on?"

Legolas smirked. "The ground?"

"Damn it," I replied, immediately falling to my knees and finding the softest patch of grass, curling up and falling asleep within minutes.

The next morning, I woke up, stretched, and looked around. I had forgotten how uncomfortable it was to sleep on the ground, and my entire right side was sore. I pushed myself up into a sitting position and looked around. Where was Legolas? I saw the brown horse, grazing quietly nearby.

"Legolas?" I muttered. "Where did you go?"

Legolas suddenly appeared below a tree. "I was just sitting on the branch, looking out upon Anórien," he explained dreamily. I glanced at him as if he were a two-headed Orc. He blushed slightly. "Here, lembas," he said, handing me a slice of what looked like hardened bread. I took it apprehensively.

"And this is?" I wondered, turning it around in my hand.

"Lembas," Legolas repeated. "Elf-food from Lórien. Try it." I furrowed my brow, but raised the lembas to my mouth and took a bite tentatively. Suddenly, the twisting in my stomach stopped. I took another bite and I felt almost full. Legolas smiled, watching my eyes widen in disbelief. "Full?" he grinned.

"That's amazing!" I exclaimed, handing the lembas back to Legolas. He put it in a sack and climbed onto the horse, offering me his hand. I took it and again, we were off.

Three days later, we found ourselves riding through Rohan. Trees were scarce, as was real grass. We rode on, unhindered.

On the sixth day, we reached the edge of a wood. The horse stopped. "Mirkwood," Legolas breathed. I looked at the line of trees before us. The trees were no different from any other trees. They were thick, and a path separated some from others. The horse began walking slowly toward the wood. Not ominous—indeed, rather inviting, the woods swallowed us as we walked onto the path. Legolas changed almost immediately. All of a sudden, he was very warm and comfortable. His breaths were longer and deeper, his hair darker, his body language relaxed. He turned his head to look at me, and I could tell his eyes were an even brighter brown. The smile on his face was loving and at-ease. "This is my home."

I could tell the air inside the wood was lighter, making it easier to breathe. My own red hair, which hung down in front of me, turned a brighter shade of auburn, and strawberry blond highlights that I had never noticed before seemed to glimmer. I felt calmer and lighter, as if I had just stepped onto an alternate plane made especially for Elves. "It is wonderful," I exhaled.

"Another day of riding is still ahead of us," Legolas said. We kept moving at a slow pace through the woods, taking time to enjoy the trees. "Can you hear them whispering?" he asked, his ears perking up. I listened hard but heard nothing except the wind. I smiled apologetically.

"You will have to teach me," I suggested. Legolas nodded, and we rode on.

The next morning came slowly, and the horse's back became less and less comfortable with each passing second. I was so anxious to get to the heart of Mirkwood that I could not enjoy anything around me. Finally, the horse slowed to a walk. Legolas smiled and pointed at a tree. At first I saw nothing, but my eyes traveled up the tree and I saw a sort of house, a flat perhaps, in the branches of the tree. The flat was made of wooded and was big enough to house a bedroom and a kitchen. I saw a young Elf climb down the ladder attached to the flat and hop off a few feet before the ladder touched the ground. The young Elf saw the horse and ran up to us. We stopped.

"Prince Legolas, you have returned!" the Elf said.

"I am glad to be back, Caseleth," Legolas grinned. The Elf named Caseleth must have been only a few hundred years old; I could tell from the innocent look in his eyes. He had long, platinum blond hair that hung only to his shoulders, and none was pulled back as Legolas' hair. Caseleth had sharp, blue eyes and wore an olive green tunic.

"Who is the lady?" Caseleth asked excitedly.

Legolas looked back at me. "Forgive my discourtesy! This is Tialyn. Tialyn, this is Caseleth," he nodded toward the young Elf. I smiled.

"Nice to meet you," I said softly.

"And you, miss!" Caseleth turned his attention back to Legolas. "I must go find my brother, but it is great that you are back, Prince Legolas!" Caseleth said, hurrying off behind us. Legolas waved, and the horse began to walk slowly again. As we moved further along, I saw many flats in trees, and many Elves descended from their homes to greet Legolas and the Elven maiden with him. Many questions were asked on the subject of the Ring; an object I had heard of only from Aragorn shortly and Legolas during his tale. How so many Elves knew about this thing was beyond my imagination. Finally, as we passed the Elves with a nod and a smile, we reached a clearing in the woods. A colossal castle-like stone structure stood before us. The castle seemed to be three stories tall, and so wide I could not imagine walking from one end to the other. Large windows on each floor overlooked the wood, and a short, stone bridge greeted visitors and walked them to two enormous, wooden doors that formed an arch. The castle would have been inviting if it were not so massive. Legolas urged the horse to move faster, and we were trotting over the bridge to the front doors. Without warning, Legolas jumped off the horse and hurriedly reached for my hand to help me down. I took it quizzically and Legolas, leaving the horse behind, pulled open the right door and stepped inside.

The inside of the castle was more intricate than the outside. The entire castle was made of the same stone. The floor at the entrance was covered in a large, deep green rug with intricate tree-like designs. Two large, stone staircases sprouted from the floor across the room, both curving to almost meet one another at the landing of the second floor. The staircases were also covered in long, green rugs. A wooden table stood at the end of the rug at the entrance, nothing on it. On either side of the entrance room were hallways that seemed endless. Legolas stepped forward quickly, as if about to run up the stairs. Suddenly, a figure appeared at the top of the right staircase, his hands on the rail that surrounded the second floor.

"Son," the elderly Elf's voice said with the deepest joy. This was King Thranduil.


	7. King Thranduil and Nimaroel

Legolas' eyes lit up. "Father!" Legolas cried, sprinting up the stairs and hugging him. The Elf wrapped his arms around his son with care. Except for the extra weight his father had, the two looked almost identical. They had the same color hair that fell almost to the same length. I could not tell the color of Thranduil's eyes, but I was sure they would be some shade of brown. Thranduil looked older, of course, but not immensely old. The two looked like best friends who had just found each other after too long a time parted.

"Son, tell me everything," Thranduil pleaded as the embrace ended. Legolas glanced back down at me. I must have looked bewildered because Legolas began to laugh when he saw the look on my face, as if I had learned too much at one time.

"Father, this is Tialyn," Legolas said, pulling the King down the stairs and toward me. "I met her in Minas Tirith and convinced her to travel with me to visit Mirkwood. She lives in Imladris," Legolas explained. I was unsure of how to greet a King, and I was torn between curtseying and groveling. Instead, I stood there, baffled and wide-eyed.

"Seems a bit rigid," Thranduil laughed as he got closer to me. I kept looking around for some sign of what to do, when Thranduil put his arms around me and pulled me into a hearty hug. I was so shocked at this point that I stood still, frozen.

"Tialyn," Legolas whispered. "What in the name of Ilúvatar are you doing?"

"It is okay, the girl is just stunned," Thranduil replied. "Come, son, come, dear," he said, walking to the hallway on the right. Legolas looked at me questioningly.

"Tialyn, Eru, what are you doing?" he insisted again in a whisper.

"S-sorry," I started, breaking my reserve.

"Come on, you idiot," Legolas insisted, grabbing my wrist and pulling me fast behind Thranduil. We walked down the hallway on the right, past a few dark, wooden doors and finally reached a door that Thranduil decided to go into.

"This will be your room," he offered. I stepped inside behind him and Legolas. As if Mirkwood could get much grander. The bed in the middle of the room began at my waist. The sheets were cream-colored and intricate. The carpet was blood-red and the walls were cream to match the sheets. Across the room was a doorway that led to what must have been the bathroom. A great, amber, wooden chest stood at the foot of the bed. I could not breathe.

"Th-thank you," I tried to mutter. Thranduil smiled at me.

"I will send someone in with your things," he said kindly. "Legolas, come with me and tell me of your journey and how you and yours defeated the Necromancer." With that, Legolas and Thranduil exited, closing the door behind them and leaving me standing alone in the room. Before I had time to look around, there came a quiet knock on the door.

"Come in," I said.

"Miss Tialyn," a tall, female Elf said, walking into my room carrying my bag.

"I can take that," I offered.

"No, I will handle it," she said almost rudely. I recoiled my outstretched hand. The Elf, whose blond hair fell down to her waist, busied herself by opening the trunk and unpacking my clothes.

"That really is unnecessary," I started, but the Elf cut me off with a quick motion of her hand.

"I am Nimaroel," she said, not looking at me. Her dress was a light yellow and hung close to her feet. "I am the keeper of this place," she continued, unpacking. "If you want to know anything, I would be the one to ask," she said, finishing and standing up, turning to face me.

"Thank you," I said gratefully.

"Why have you come to Mirkwood?" Nimaroel asked suddenly, almost accusingly.

"I, well," I stumbled. "I met Legolas at the wedding of Arwen Evenstar and Aragorn Elessar, one of the Dúnedain and King of Gondor," I began. Nimaroel rolled her eyes, inviting me to get along with the story. I was upset that she had not taken to me right away as most do, but I went on. "Legolas and I talked and he convinced me to visit Mirkwood with him," I finished.

"Where are you from?" she asked.

"Imladris, the former Kingdom of Elrond Halfelven," I said regally and with pride.

"Wonderful," Nimaroel replied sarcastically. "Well, let me make it very clear that I do not easily take to strangers, especially those of foreign lands, and particularly those that _Legolas _brings back to Mirkwood, and _especially _females," she said defiantly. "Now if you will excuse me, I must return to Thranduil and Legolas to hear his story," she said, taking my leave and exiting the room faster than she had entered. Eru, Elves of Mirkwood really _could_ be stuck-up. I had a feeling I was going to have trouble with this Nimaroel.


	8. Welcome Home, Legolas

Later that day, Legolas poked his head in my room and informed me that there would be a party of sorts tonight, the Welcome Home Legolas type. I sighed in concession; perhaps I was going to too many parties lately. The last time I woke up without a nauseous stomach (minus the nights of traveling) was before I left for Gondor. I also realized that I was out of dresses, and the red one reeked of alcohol. I was stumped as to what to wear, and spent the afternoon pacing my chamber. Finally I realized I had to leave this room as soon as possible or I would go crazy, so I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, taking a deep breath as if I had been struggling for air inside my room. I realized that my room was the only part of the castle that I had seen, and as long as I was only wandering around and not disturbing anything, my curiosity would not pose a problem.

With that evaluation in mind, I started walking to my left, away from the entrance hall and further down the hallway. More doors like the door to my room. Perhaps there was an Elf living in one of these rooms that would be a little more welcoming than Nimaroel.

After walking for a minute, I stopped at a door on my right. I knocked but no one replied, and I cautiously opened the door. The room behind the door was much like mine, only the sheets were a royal blue and the walls were a soft ivory white. Instead of a chest at the foot of the bed, a large, wooden wardrobe loomed against the wall opposite the bed. The wardrobe was too inviting of my nosiness for me to ignore, so I walked up and pulled open one side of the wardrobe. The only garment inside the wardrobe was a long, silver dress. I pulled it out and draped it over the bed to get a better look. The silver shimmered from shoulders to toes. The front went down in a V-like manner; the seams enveloped in white lace. The dress came in close at the waist and fanned out, gushing to the floor in a silver wave. The sleeves were only small straps that went over the shoulders. I picked up the top of the dress to look at the back, which tied up from the waist. This dress was gorgeous.

Suddenly, I heard light footsteps coming down the hallway. Terrified, I tried to stand in front of the dress to hide it. The invader stopped in the doorway of the room I was snooping around in. Oh thank Eru.

"Tialyn, what are you doing in here? I looked for you in your room but you were obviously not there," Legolas said, stepping inside the room. I blushed.

"I got bored," I explained, ashamed. Legolas spotted the dress behind me on the bed, and I dropped my eyes to the floor. He walked closer to me and put his index finger under my chin and lifted it.

"I understand," he said, his honey brown eyes searching mine. "Tialyn," he said, barely audibly. I swallowed hard, suddenly very aware of his finger touching my chin and his eyes roaming my face. His lips kept moving closer to mine, and he closed his eyes before making contact. Before I could feel his lips brush against mine, I snapped back into reality and pushed him hard with my hand.

"Legolas, _please_!" I exclaimed. I could not fight the bumps that appeared all over my body. I expected to look at him and see hurt in his almost-yellow eyes, but instead, I saw something else unexpected.

"Playing hard to get, are we?" Legolas smiled. "Fine," he said, turning around to walk out. "Oh, and feel free to wear that dress tonight," he called before exiting the room. I grinned to myself and shook my head, taking a step away from the foot of the bed. Cheek! Ah, of all of his characteristics, this one had to be my favorite. I picked up the dress happily and almost skipped out of the room and back to my own.

After putting on the dress and brushing my hair, I walked into the hallway and toward the entrance hall, where Legolas said he would be waiting for me at about this time. I saw him standing at the bottom of the right staircase, and as I entered the room, his eyes lit up so quickly that I could tell from where I stood the dress looked at least alright on me. I walked closer to him and smiled wickedly.

"Legolas, if you would not mind, staring is rude," I insisted, brushing past him and walking up the stairs to the second floor. I counted to three, and sure enough, he was beside me. I glanced at him and saw that he was wearing a shade of silver as well, slightly darker than my dress.

"Forgive me, my lady," he said, offering me his elbow. I slipped my arm through his graciously. "To the party." We reached the second floor where there stood two large doors like the ones at the entrance. Legolas let go of my arm and opened the door, bowing to allow me to enter. I gulped at the number of Elves that were now staring in our direction as we both walked in. I recognized one in particular. She was wearing a long, green dress that was not too flattering but also not horrifying. It dipped in a classic manner to expose a glimpse of cleavage.

"Legolas, so nice of you to join us," Nimaroel said, nearly running up to us.

"_Ni_ma," Legolas said affectionately, embracing the Elf. She shot me a hateful glare over his shoulder. I rolled my eyes. "I take it you have already met Tialyn," he said, stepping aside to allow her to properly dice me into tiny pieces with her eyes. I heard her breath catch in her throat, and I think I saw her face turn slightly pink.

"Where did you get that dress?" she hissed, only loud enough for me and Legolas to hear. Legolas looked alarmed, and I, confused.

"I told her she could wear it tonight," Legolas said hurriedly, looking at Nimaroel with an apologetic face. She was furious, but when Legolas' eyes turned to her, she seemed to melt, and she smiled sweetly.

"Well, if you told her it was fine, then I guess I forgive you," she said, batting her eyelashes at Legolas. Two minutes into this party, and I was ready to vomit – and I had not even had a glass of wine! "May I have a word with your new friend, Legolas?" Nimaroel asked pleasantly. I shot Legolas a glance that clearly said 'no-and-if-you-leave-I-will-kill-you,' but the look he shot back was one that said 'shut-up-and-talk-to-her,' and he nodded, walking away. I was definitely going to kill him. "That was my mother's dress," Nimaroel sneered. "To see it on the likes of you makes me sick."

"I had no idea," I started, but she cut me off with a wave of her hand.

"After tonight, you will leave Mirkwood and go home. No one wants you here," she replied, snidely.

"Legolas wants me here," I shot back, "and I do not plan on leaving any time soon." With that, I hurried after Legolas and left Nimaroel standing there, fuming.


	9. An Enticing Silhouette

**Warning: This chapter is part of the reason this fanfic is rated M.**

----------

I caught up with Legolas and tugged his tunic so hard I thought he would fall over. "Nice going, nitwit, she tried to kill me," I whispered.

"_Kill _you? Now I _know _you are exaggerating," Legolas mused.

"I am going to put an arrow through your hand next time you think of leaving me alone with her, Legolas!" I insisted. "She hates me."

"She does not hate you," Legolas replied, walking up to a group of Elves I did not recognize. "She is just protective of me."

"You mean _in love _with you," I corrected.

"Later," he insisted as we reached the group of Elves talking enthusiastically.

"Legolas!" one Elf cried, raising his glass of wine. Mmm, wine. The aforementioned Elf also had long, blond hair that was pulled back behind his head. He wore green and his eyes were a dark brown. He seemed about Legolas' age. "Welcome home, my friend," he said.

"Kaon, Amadrim, Lysela," Legolas said, addressing them each in turn, "this is Tialyn." The brown-eyed Elf must have been Kaon; Amadrim was wearing the same colors, but his hair was slightly darker than the rest, and Lysela was a beautiful, young Elf with long, wavy, light brown hair and green eyes. They all smiled at me.

"Nice to meet you," I said to them. They all smiled back.

"I saw you talking to Nimaroel," Lysela said, her voice soft. "She is feisty, that one. She'll cut your head off if you so much as glance at Legolas in a suggestive manner," she laughed. I laughed too, and Legolas looked a bit embarrassed. "She finks he's so coot," Lysela cooed, reaching over to pinch Legolas' left cheek, and making kissy faces at him. Legolas blushed a darker shade of red.

"I told you!" I accused, pushing Legolas slightly on his arm.

"Come, let's go get a drink," Legolas replied without mentioning Nimaroel, and pulling me to the only wine table I saw. These Mirkwood Elves must not drink as much as the Elves of Imladris. This was a bit disappointing. "Do not mention Nimaroel any more tonight," Legolas pleaded.

"Why?" I teased, poking his cheek with my finger.

"Really, it is quite embarrassing the way she acts around me all the time," he admitted, reaching for two glasses of wine and handing me one. "I think she has scared off all potential lovers of mine by threatening them away," he explained. I furrowed my brow.

"She has never actually _hurt_ anyone, has she?" I asked, a little worried.

"She tried, once," Legolas confessed. "And that was, of course, the end of that relationship," he sighed.

"That is a little scary," I asserted, taking a sip of the wine. Not too bad. "Good thing I am not a potential lover, right?" I joked. Legolas grinned over his glass.

"Right," he said, gulping down the rest of the wine in his glass.

"Feeling antsy?" I asked, watching him pick up another glass of wine. He nodded and gulped down half of that glass. The rest of the night went on like this, Legolas drinking and introducing me to a million Elves whose names I could not and would not remember. Thranduil gave a speech at some point in the night, but Legolas was acting so awkward that I could not pay attention to anything the King was saying. Legolas obviously could not either. By the end of the night, I had lost count of the number of glasses of wine Legolas had drunk. I was only on my second, having to keep watch over Legolas and make sure he was not acting a fool at his own Welcome Home party. Of course, it was difficult to stop him from acting ridiculous and almost impossible to wrench a wine glass out of his hand when he had finally had enough.

"Why take the wine?" Legolas asked almost childishly, trying to reach for the glass I was holding out of his grasp and stumbling in the process. Thank Eru most of the Elves had left and were retiring to their rooms.

"Legolas, you have had quite enough to drink," I insisted, putting the wine glass down on the empty wine table and grabbing his arm. I began to steer him out of the great room.

"Father," Legolas protested, trying to turn around.

"King Thranduil left hours ago," I said, jerking him back on the path out of the room and to the top of the stairs. "Now where is your room?" I demanded.

"It's…that way…" Legolas said slowly, looking around. "Let me stay with you," he said quite seriously.

"That will not be necessary," I heard Nimaroel say. I had not seen her the rest of that night, and was unpleasantly surprised to hear her walking up behind us. "I will take him to his room," she said, grabbing the arm opposite me and tugging him past the room where the party was held.

"Nima, let go of me," Legolas slurred, trying to pry his arm away from her grip.

"Legolas, I am only trying to help--" she started, but Legolas cut her off.

"Nima!" he yelled. "Stop babying me! I am not your property and I want to go with Tialyn," he insisted.

"Legolas, you are drunk," she replied nonchalantly, taking his arm again and yanking him away from me.

"Nimaroel!" Legolas yelled. Nimaroel was so shocked that she let go of his arm. This was the first time I had ever heard him say her whole name instead of his nickname for her, and I guessed the impersonality of her name instead of her nickname insulted her. "I am going with Tialyn," he said, dusting off his arm as if Nimaroel had gotten it dirty. "Leave me alone." The poor girl looked impossibly humiliated, and I almost felt sorry for her until she threw me a death stare and stormed off in the direction she had been pulling Legolas.

"Legolas, that really was not nice," I scolded after I was sure Nimaroel was out of hearing range.

"She's utterly impossible," Legolas said, grabbing my hand and walking down the stairs, stumbling every few steps.

"Legolas!" I said. "You are not sleeping in my room with me," I maintained, pulling my hand away from his grip.

"That's what _you_ think," Legolas smirked, reaching the bottom of the stairs and nearly sprinting down the hallway and to my room. I followed, my arms crossed across my chest and a reprimand caught in my throat. When I reached my room, I saw Legolas snuggled under my blankets, his eyes closed. I sighed and shook my head.

"Legolas," I said. He did not reply. I walked up to my bed and pushed him around a bit. "Legolas," I said louder, but he did not answer. "Legolas!" I yelled, but he did not move and I threw my hands in the air in concession. "Fine," I said, walking over to the other side of the bed, turning off the light, and climbing in. "But I'm sleeping with this dress on." As soon as I got in bed and was under the covers, Legolas turned toward me and smiled.

"It's warm under here," he observed. I sighed again.

"Legolas, get out of here," I said.

"Okay," he said to my surprise. "Under one condition." I looked at him quizzically. "Let me kiss you," he said. I raised one eyebrow at him.

"You are so drunk," I said, in a conceding tone of voice.

"Yes, but I am adamant," he said, sitting up. "Let me kiss you and I will leave you alone," he insisted. The moon gave off the only light in the room, and Legolas' hair glimmered. His silhouette was almost too alluring, and I had to close my eyes quickly. "Tialyn," he whispered seductively. I opened my eyes and his face was hovering over mine. I looked uncomfortably from one of his eyes to the other, and let my eyes travel to his thin, perfect lips. His face was glowing in the moonlight, and the tempting position of his body and flawlessness of his lips made him almost irresistible. Without a reply, Legolas let his face touch mine, his lips brushing against my cheek. I turned my head to allow him to get closer, and our lips met.

The attraction that coursed through my body was overpowering and unnerving. I felt his tongue escape his mouth and dart into mine tentatively. I let my tongue lick his bottom lip carefully, and soon, Legolas had crawled on top, straddling me. He put his hand on my face and let it run idly through my hair. I put both my hands on the back of his head and pulled him closer. The tingling sensation that had run up and down my body would not go away.

Legolas bit my lower lip and began working his way to my neck, and behind my ear. I nearly whimpered in pleasure when he licked the pointy tip of my ear. This was getting ridiculous. Why couldn't I stop?

"Legolas," I whispered, trying to snap myself out of this crazy openness I was experiencing. Legolas, however, took this for a moan of pleasure, and kept kissing my ear and neck. "Legolas," I said again, more forcefully and less seductively. He stopped suddenly and pulled his face away, staring into my eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said uneasily, pushing himself off of me and standing up. He was overtly self-conscious at this moment, and I felt terrible for ruining the moment. He gulped, breathing hard. Without another word, he turned away and walked out of the door. I watched after him, part of me hoping he would turn around and come back, but he did not. I fell into an uneasy sleep, dreaming of an enticing silhouette.


	10. Orcs

This section of my fanfiction has a little bit of skewing going on... okay I think I've made it very clear that I do some skewing so let's just get on with it, shall we?

-------------------------------------

The next day, I did not want to pull myself out of bed. Nothing could motivate me to move, and nothing could motivate me to go anywhere near a place where Legolas might be lurking. I was not scared as much as embarrassed – embarrassed at the fact that I let him kiss me even once, and embarrassed at the fact that I liked it. Obviously.

Before I had sufficient time to secure a plan that included sneaking away from the castle with my bag, stealing a horse, and somehow feeling my way back to Rivendell, a soft knock came at my door. I pulled the covers over my head, hoping the intruder was not Legolas.

"Tialyn?" I heard a familiar husky voice from outside the door say.

"Aragorn?" I called back. The door swung open, and there he was with a rather worried look on his face. "What in the name of Ilúvatar are you doing here?" I asked, sitting up immediately, a wave of anxiety surging through me.

"Last night the outskirts of Mirkwood were attacked by Orcs," he said almost monotone.

"_Orcs_?" I replied, astonished and very taken aback. Aragorn nodded gravely, crossing his arms and pacing around my room. "How is that possible?"

"Early in the Third Age, a group of Orcs decided that they would not ally themselves with Sauron any longer because he treated them like his animals," Aragorn started.

"But they were his creation," I replied incredulously. "Why would anyone turn against his maker?"

"Rumor says they found the way Sauron treated them unfair and ungrateful because they did all of his dirty work," Aragorn continued. "Which is true, for the most part. The Orcs were sent to far away lands without a real leader to vanquish groups of Elves, Dwarves, and Men who were almost impossible to defeat. This group of Orcs had grown tired of Sauron's control, which seemed to be waning or rising too slowly for them to care, and they separated themselves from Sauron and his dominions." Aragorn kept pacing, his hands behind his back now.

"But why didn't Sauron find them and kill them? Isn't that what he does to dissenters?" I questioned.

"I wondered that myself, but I suppose the band of Orcs was too small for Sauron to notice, and if he had noticed, he obviously did not care because defeating them then would have been effortless. I believe Sauron_ did_ know about them, however – but the timing was just right for them, because Sauron's attention was too focused on rumors of the discovery of the Ring and Its whereabouts to worry about a group of rebels," Aragorn concluded.

"But, like you said, the number of this group was too small for Sauron to notice or care," I said. "Why should they pose a problem?"

"I said the group was too small for _Sauron_ to notice or care," Aragorn corrected. "Sauron had an army of tens of thousands of Orcs. A small group could be as much as a few hundred," Aragorn counted in his head. "The group that attacked Mirkwood this morning was small, a group of only twenty or so, but I am sure they were only a _very _minute part of the larger group."

"Wait, Aragorn – how did you get here so fast? You must have only left a day or two after us," I furrowed my brow.

"Right," Aragorn mumbled. "I must admit I had heard of this group from Thranduil right after the wedding by way of message," he explained. "I had a feeling I would be needed soon."

"Why did Legolas not inform me of this?" I wondered out loud, angrily.

"Legolas did not know," Aragorn admitted. "Thranduil did not wish to disturb his son when he has just returned."

"Is anyone hurt?" I softened immediately.

"A few minor injuries, but the Orcs only burned down a number of trees," Aragorn said with a grateful sigh. I was upset. "They were able to fend off the twenty Orcs early this morning."

"Is Legolas alright?" I blurted. Shit. Aragorn threw a curious glance my way. "I mean, he is a good friend of mine and I would hate to see him hurt."

"Oh, he's a good friend now, is he?" Aragorn teased. "He's fine. He only got hit with an arrow in the arm."

"_What_?"

"I am only kidding! Goodness, someone is protective," Aragorn said. "And the day Orcs learn how to aim is the day I tell Arwen I do not love her." I giggled, and Aragorn grinned. "Look, I just came to say good morning. I figured you would have already heard the news, but it seems I woke you." I shook my head.

"No, I was awake…just debating the whole getting out of bed part," I replied, yawning.

"Is it not a little late?" Aragorn asked, indicating the window through which sun was pouring. I glanced at the window, back at Aragorn, and shrugged. He laughed.

"So what do we plan on doing with this little Orc problem?" I asked, almost disinterested.

"It is far from a _little _problem," Aragorn retorted. "They could have made more Orcs, or gotten a few traitorous Men on their side."

"But there is nothing to fight for anymore!" I laughed. "They cannot believe they could gain control, not against all the Men, Elves, and Dwarves in Middle-earth!"

"No, but perhaps there is something worth fighting for, to them," Aragorn replied. "They may have an alliance we know nothing of. They may have a powerful leader that has remained hidden during the War. This group of Orcs could prove to be very dangerous," he warned. I smirked.

"For the fearless defeaters of Sauron? Doubtful," I replied. Aragorn shrugged.

"Well, I will leave you to get dressed," he said, walking out of the door. I had not had time to ask him where he could be found later, but I did not have to ask. When I finally was dressed and had cautiously left my room, I saw a group of Elves standing in the entrance hall, all of them looking quite worried. Thranduil and Legolas were standing before them, the former whispering in the latter's ear.

"Listen, listen," Thranduil said finally, as I found a place among the Elves to stand and hear what the King had to say. "I know you are all worried, but we have done our research on the Orcs and have found that they are not a problem. No need to worry." The Elves around me started whispering to one another, a look of uncertainty in their eyes. "If there was any cause for concern, you would all know," Thranduil said.

"We _do _all know," one rather forward Elf cried. A nodding of head ensued.

"Kinsman, fellow Elves of Mirkwood," I heard rather than saw Legolas say. "I assure you there is no cause for alarm," he said with a very powerful voice. He was almost perfectly believable. "My love for you all prevents me from making the situation seem less harmful than it is. I would not tell you we are not in danger if we were." Eru, he really was a pro at lying. Brilliant, I almost had sex with a professional liar.

Eventually, the group of Elves dispersed and the room was empty except for a few stragglers, King Thranduil, Legolas, Aragorn and me. To avoid any conversation with Legolas at all, I hurried up to where Aragorn was standing.

"Tialyn." Oh damn it all, someone was always saying my name, and for some reason it was always the person who I absolutely did not want to say it.

"Yes?" I said innocently, turning around. Legolas stiffened.

"I…I just wanted to say hello," he said pitifully. I had to mentally stop myself from rolling my eyes.

"Well, hello, and nice lying," I remarked impolitely. Why was I acting like he had rejected me last night? I had no reason to be so biting. Legolas gulped.

"I just could not stand to worry anyone," Legolas replied under his breath but loud enough for me to hear. "Listen," he began, but I knew what he was going to say. It would be something along the lines of 'I'm sorry,' and I was sick of being apologized to, especially by him.

"Please do not apologize," I snapped. "There is nothing to be sorry for." I think he tried to stop himself, but Legolas actually smiled. The pretentious git. To my chagrin, I realized Aragorn could hear every word we had said.

"What was he trying to apologize for?" Aragorn asked after Legolas had moved out of earshot.

"He was…he was really intoxicated last night," I said quickly. Aragorn nodded knowingly.

"Right," he said sarcastically. "You think I am an idiot."

"Aragorn!" I laughed, and though he knew I was lying, he did not push me to explain any further.


	11. Snooping through the Castle

Later that day, Aragorn and I took a stroll around the castle. We searched every hallway and every room, constantly walking in on conversations we were sure were supposed to be private. We even found Nimaroel's room, much to my vexation. She simply glared at me and smiled at Aragorn, kindly asking us to exit her room and never return. We laughed all the way to the next room, which was another empty guest bedroom.

"We still have not found the room that belongs to the Prince," I remarked.

"Well, we simply cannot stop exploring until we find it," Aragorn replied, a devilish grin on his face. "Perhaps there is someone we can ask," Aragorn continued. "I do not believe we will have the time or patience to walk this entire castle." I nodded in reply. Just as we had begun exiting a hallway on the second floor to ask someone where we could find his room, a male Elf dressed in light blue opened a door and began walking down the hallway, away from us. "Excuse me, sir?" Aragorn hurried to catch up with the Elf. He turned around, and for a moment, a breath actually caught in my throat.

This Elf was possibly the most gorgeous Elf I had seen since, well, forever. He had long, deep brown hair that was loose and fell slightly past his shoulders. His skin was pale and his eyes were the most brilliant color green I had ever imagined – greener than all the trees of Mirkwood and brighter than all the stars of Lórien. The light blue tunic emphasized the muscles in his arms and legs, and he had intricate, golden cuffs around his wrists that met in a point in the middle of his hands. His hands were medium-sized and obviously strong, because I could see his veins clearly. He was obviously an archer.

"Yes?" His lips moved perfectly over his teeth, his green eyes searching the two of us strangers. I exhaled slowly and loudly, and Aragorn nearly burst into laughter. The Elf looked genuinely confused.

"We were wondering where we could find the sleeping chamber of Prince Legolas," Aragorn said, stifling laughter.

"Just down the hall on the right," the Elf said, his gaze turning toward me. I could feel myself melting under his radiant green eyes, and I nearly choked. "May I ask your names?" he said, eyeing me. I usually felt uncomfortable being eye candy, but I supposed I was getting used to it with Legolas around and this Elf, well…Ilúvatar must have really thought this one through, because this Elf was perfect.

"I am Aragorn, King of Gondor," Aragorn began, "and this is Tialyn of Rivendell."

"Aragorn, I have heard much of you," the Elf bowed. "And Tialyn, the pleasure is mine, I am sure," he smiled. I thought by the end of this conversation I would be nothing but a puddle on the floor. "My name is Lafathnin," he said. A fitting name for one as gorgeous as he, I thought, though I was not sure why. I expected his name to roll of the tongue as such. But by now I really had stopped breathing, and could say nothing. Lafathnin laughed kindly, and I nearly fainted.

"It is quite our pleasure as well," Aragorn said, nudging me with his elbow. I gulped and nodded.

"I must take your leave now, but perhaps I will see you both later at dinner?" he asked. Aragorn nodded, and Lafathnin turned and walked away. My breath came back to me.

"Tialyn, you really are an expert of making a fool of yourself," Aragorn laughed. I glared at him evilly, and smiled too.

"Did you _see _him, Aragorn? He must be the most gorgeous creature alive," I breathed. Aragorn laughed.

"Look, let's go find Legolas' room and snoop around a bit if he is not around," he said. "Take your mind off Lafathnin for now." I nodded in agreement and the two of us walked down the hallway to the door Lafathnin had pointed out. I put my hand on the doorknob and cautiously turned it, opening the door slowly and peeking inside. I saw no one. The room was just as I had expected – similar to the guest rooms but twice as large. Clothes were strewn on the floor and the bed was unmade. The room smelled vaguely of his body. Some papers were also scattered on the floor by the bed. Seeing that the room was empty, Aragorn and I walked in giggling and shut the door behind us.

"I must say I am not surprised," I whispered, walking over to his bathroom.

"I must agree," Aragorn replied, picking up a piece of paper on the floor. I watched as his eyes scanned the page, and before I could ask what it said, the had thrown it back on the floor. "Tialyn, perhaps we should leave," Aragorn said uneasily, kicking something under the bed.

"What? _Why _would we do that?" I questioned skeptically, walking closer to him. "What did you just kick under the bed?"

"Nothing," Aragorn replied too quickly. I could tell he was bluffing, but I wanted to read the paper and could not let him know that I cared. I walked around to the other side of the bed and began examining the clothes on the ground.

"Let's not leave quite yet, we just got here," I urged, walking around the room a bit, casually.

"Tialyn," Aragorn said firmly, walking toward me to grab my arm. I laughed and ducked under him, running over to the paper and picking up from under the bed. "Tialyn!" Aragorn yelled angrily, diving after me and tackling me. I was able to hold the paper away from him long enough to see the first few sentences. In beautiful, Elvish handwriting, there was written: _I often dream of her, and I cannot stop myself from wishing she were a part of me, just for a night. Or perhaps longer. Tialyn. The name brings me peace and hope. Dare I say I love? _I threw the paper down before reading any more, and turned my head to look at Aragorn, who was lying on the floor beside me. He shrugged. The next moment came faster than anything had come so far, and the door to the room began to creak open. Of course, at the worst possible time, as if he had a tendency to involve himself in awkward moments, Legolas walked in.


	12. Dinner and The Third Floor

**This chapter is another reason, a very GOOD reason, that this fanfiction is rated M. You have been warned.**

**------------------------------------------**

"What…" Legolas began, seeing Aragorn and I on the floor. Of course, he may have thought we were doing something quite unlike us to do, and that thought probably did flash through his mind for at least a second, until he caught sight of the paper on the floor in front of us. His confused, innocent look transformed into a look of embarrassment and rage. "_GET OUT!_" Legolas yelled. Aragorn stood up quickly, pulling me up with him and walking fast to the door and out of it. I followed suit, but Legolas stood in front of the door and blocked my exit.

"Legolas, I--"

"You," he breathed. I could only imagine all the curses running through his head at this moment. I looked up at him apologetically. Eru, he must be so humiliated, I thought. "Do not ever come near me again," Legolas threatened. My eyes searched his helplessly, but I could tell that he had just constructed a rather sturdy wall around his heart and his head, and the pleading look I was giving him did no good. "And please refrain from looking at me like that, Tialyn," Legolas said before moving out of my way and allowing me to leave the room. The door slammed angrily behind me. I stood looking at it for a moment before sighing and turning to leave the hallway. I saw Aragorn standing there with his arms crossed, a reproachful look on his face. I gulped.

"Aragorn, don't," I begged, brushing past him and walking gloomily down the hallway. Why was what Legolas wrote getting to me? Why did it make my heart flutter slightly and why in Middle-earth was I so upset with myself for probing?

I made my way down the hallway, numb to anything around me. Well, that is, until a familiar face appeared in front of me.

"Tialyn," Lafathnin said quietly. "Are you alright?" Why was everyone so prone to asking me if I was alright?

"Fine," I replied.

"I was wondering if you had anyone in particular to dine with this evening." I looked up at him and saw sincerity in his eyes, and the Legolas ordeal faded from thought.

"I…well, no, I mean, I will probably sit with Aragorn," I stuttered.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Did I mind?

"Yes! I mean no, no – I mean, join us," I finally managed. "That would be nice." Lafathnin smiled one of those gorgeous smiles and bowed.

"Then I will see you this evening," he said before taking his leave. I stood, breathless and bewildered at the end of the hallway.

"I saw that," Aragorn said, walking up to me. "Let's go." I followed him down the stairs and to my room. Aragorn left after a while, and I got dressed. Now I really had no nice dresses left, and I instead put on the red one and hoped I did not look as bad as I had felt earlier. Perhaps the dress would further attract Lafathnin, which was, of course, my goal.

That night, Aragorn, Lafathnin, and I sat together at the long table that had been placed in the room the party had been held in the night before. Many Elves were present, and from my seat near the middle, I could see Legolas and his father sitting at the head of either end of the table. Lafathnin had been completely taken aback by my dress, and was pleasantly flirting with me as dinner was served. I watched Legolas smolder silently out of the corner of my eye. I could tell he was trying not to notice.

"So, my lady, what are your plans after dinner?" Lafathnin asked smoothly, his green eyes caressing my body. I grinned.

"Well, I plan to find a beautiful Elf to sweep me off my feet," I said. Cheek.

"I may be able to help you with that," he replied deviously. The rest of dinner went on like this, and after dinner, Aragorn and Legolas left to frolic together in the woods, or that is what I like to imagine for them anyway. Aragorn had said something about scouting, but I had been too busy flirting to listen.

Lafathnin was not the comical, sarcastic type. He was charming and persuasive, and in no time we were huddled together in a corner on the third floor, a floor I had not yet discovered. We were both very intoxicated at this point. His lips were pressed against mine and one of my straps had fallen off my shoulder. His hands had been enjoyably searching my body, and now one rested over my breast while the other kept moving a little lower. His kisses were lustful and sent me reeling. I could almost not feel myself think. I could only feel him, and I was delighted to find my hand drift to a nice bulge under his clothes. By now I had lost track of all time and place, and I was moaning with pleasure, pressed against the wall of an empty third floor. Well, of course, we had thought it was empty, but before we realized otherwise, I was getting quite a nice feeling about tonight. Finally, after so long, I would be experiencing what I had waited for. Now, this was of course not my first time to be intimate with someone. There had been Elves before, and even—and I almost hate admitting this—Aragorn, once, before we realized our friendship was too valuable. Now _that _had been one fuck of a night. But this Elf had to be the most gorgeous Elf I would ever be with, and I knew I could not possibly pass this up. Besides, his strong, archer hands were all over my body and his kisses were juicy and passionate. Damn, I could get used to this. Or I could have.

I heard footsteps coming closer to us, and I tried to push Lafathnin off. "Someone is coming," I whispered almost inaudibly, pulling my strap back up on my shoulder.

"It was more exciting with it off the shoulder," Lafathnin whispered back, slipping it off my shoulder again before placing a fervent kiss on the place where the strap had been. His wandering hand had feverishly begun untying the sides of my dress, and his hand had slipped into one side and was now caressing my hip ardently. "Who cares if someone sees?" he asked, pulling one leg of mine up and around his torso and pressing me up higher against the wall so his hand could gain leverage. I could not object as I felt one finger enter me, and my breath caught in my throat. There would be no protesting from me.

As I felt myself begin to move up and down against his hand, which had now increased to three fingers, I saw a shadow loom toward us. I closed my eyes and bit my lip hard to stop myself from whimpering. When I opened them, I nearly screamed – not out of pleasure, but out of horror at who stood there, looking at us. Damn.


	13. Whispering Trees

Before I could say a word, Legolas had cleared his throat and Lafathnin had let me slide to the ground. I was sitting, looking up at the two Elves who seemed ready to tear each other apart. Lafathnin, of course, had no idea that Legolas felt any way about me – he simply wished not to be interrupted. Legolas, however, looked like he was confused as to whether he should kill Lafathnin or cry. Legolas walked up closer to Lafathnin and, in a shaky but determined voice, said, "You should leave." Lafathnin, upset but not keen on angering Legolas, nodded and turned toward me.

"I will find you later," Lafathnin said.

"No," Legolas interrupted. "You will not." Lafathnin looked at him, perplexed and almost hurt, but without a word he began walking away down the hall and to his second floor room.

I thought I was going to cry. Legolas crossed his arms and looked at me with such hatred that I thought I could have died under his stare. His honey brown eyes were livid but dejected, and he swallowed hard before moving to help me up. "Tialyn, you are not welcome in Mirkwood any longer," Legolas said. "You should go to your room and tomorrow morning I will make arrangements for you to return home." Usually, I would be utterly speechless, but this was getting ridiculous.

"Legolas, I am allowed to do what I want," I said angrily.

"Not here," Legolas replied.

"Legolas!" I nearly screamed at him. "I am sorry I do not feel the same way about you as you do about me, but that is not a reason to make me leave! I want to be your _friend_!" I could hear Legolas inhale sharply, and I thought he would say something, but he never replied. He simply turned on his heel and stalked away. I stood there, staring after him, wishing he would understand.

The next morning, Aragorn burst into my room, waking me up.

"Tialyn, are you out of your mind?" Aragorn asked, slamming the door behind him. I lifted my head groggily, glanced at him, and let my head sink back down onto my pillow. He walked to the other side of my room and turned on the light, at which I groaned irritably.

"Aragorn, what are you talking about?"

"You know very well what I am talking about, Tialyn. You knew about Legolas' feelings, and by Eru, I could swear you feel the same," Aragorn yelled.

"If I felt the same, I would be with him already!" I retorted sleepily.

"Tialyn, you might be the worst Elf I have ever met." What?

"Ex_cuse _me?"

"You killed him. You killed him, Tialyn, don't you understand that? He loves you." I shook my head and buried my face in my pillow. How damn irritating. "You love him too," Aragorn said quietly, at which I protested with another groan. "I have seen the way you two act around each other. I saw it briefly in Gondor, and every time the two of you are in the same room in this castle, you cannot stop glancing at one another, even when you were talking to Lafathnin," Aragorn continued. "Do not tell me you have no feelings for him at all."

"Aragorn, I have no feelings for him at all!" I yelled, pulling the covers over my head. Before Aragorn responded, I heard my door open again.

"You wretched little girl," an all too familiar voice said. Nimaroel was in my room, screaming at me. "What have you done to him?"

"_Please_," I said, "Excuse yourselves from my room."

"I will kill you," Nimaroel fumed. I removed my head from under the covers in time to watch her stalk threatening toward my bed. Aragorn caught her. "By Ilúvatar, I will kill you!" Nimaroel screamed. Aragorn looked at me ruefully before pulling Nimaroel, kicking and screaming, out of my room. I sighed and got out of bed.

After I was dressed, I found myself exiting the castle. This was the first time I had been out of the castle since Legolas and I arrived, and I was itching for fresh air. Luckily, Legolas was sitting just on the edge of the forest, leaning against a tree. I sighed, knowing he saw me, and walked across the bridge and up to the place where he sat.

"Legolas," I started, but he only glared at me. I sighed again. "I apologize about last night. I was drunk," I continued. Legolas huffed. "But what I said was true, Legolas! I want to be your friend," I said, looking at him helplessly.

"Some friend," Legolas muttered, throwing a rock past me.

"Legolas, I am sorry," I said. He looked up at me as if to see if I were sincere, and stood up quickly.

"Let me show you around the forest," he said. I looked at him, bewildered, but I nodded in agreement and off we went.

We spent hours walking around, listening to the trees. I heard rustling, but no whispering.

"You have to listen closely," Legolas said, grabbing my hand and placing it on the bark of a tree. "Close your eyes and imagine the tree speaking," he said softly. I looked at him questioningly, but he just nodded and I did what I was told. I closed my eyes and for an instant, I left my own feet and was high in the tree, talking animatedly to it. The sensation was so drastic, and I immediately felt myself fall back down the tree again, into my own shoes, and a whisper followed me. I opened my eyes, surprised and thrilled. Legolas grinned.

"I…that was so strange," I laughed, removing my hand from the tree and looking up at its branches.

"It is beautiful," Legolas said, looking up at the tree too and smiling. I never noticed how gorgeous his smile really was, and I could not stop my eyes from wandering from his face down his extremely well-proportioned body. Damn, what was I thinking? Legolas caught me staring at him and he glanced curiously into my eyes. "Tialyn?" I could tell he was suppressing a smile, and I my eyes immediately shot to his, slightly embarrassed.

"Sorry, I was…" My voice trailed off, and Legolas gazed at me for a moment before turning and walking further into the woods. I caught up with him, and we began talking feverishly. He told me magical stories of his childhood, growing up in Mirkwood. He told me of his first kiss, and his mother, who had died when he was only a few hundred years old. His eyes turned melancholy and I could not help but sympathize with him. I finally took my turn, telling him of the relationship I had with Aragorn, and my family in Rivendell, and the way I spent my days in hopes that I would not have to leave my home in Middle-earth. By the time we had fully learned most of each other's lives, the sun had fallen and the stars had begun twinkling through the trees. Legolas stopped and looked at me. In the starlight, his eyes were almost a brilliant yellow, and his silhouette reminded me off that night in my bedroom. The way he looked at that moment was nearly breathtaking.

"Tialyn," he started, but I put one finger to his lips and leaned in, kissing him on the cheek. He smiled and we walked back to the castle together in silence.


	14. An Angry Legolas

AH! Sorry it has been _so _long since I have updated... I've been so busy with school. Only about one month left until high school is over forever... I'll be attending Tulane University next year (go Green Wave)! Anyway, so I haven't been around in a while, and I left off in a very awkward place (in the middle of the story...always an awkward place to leave off)... hopefully you guys haven't forgotten the plotline or anything! Ha. So, the story continues, 2 months later... I hope you enjoy it! 

Also, this chapter is another reason this fanfic is rated M - you have been warned! Oh, and this chapter is pretty long... that's the way you like it, right?

------------------------------------------------------------

Later that day, an alert had been sounded; Legolas and Aragorn abandoned me to rush to the edges of the forest. I walked around aimlessly, hoping nothing was seriously wrong; perhaps another attack by the group of Orcs. It could not possibly be serious. Just as I had become wrapped in my visions of Legolas and Aragorn fighting with some vile creatures, Nimaroel stepped into my line of vision.

"I would like to apologize for my eruption earlier this morning," Nimaroel said. This was very out-of-character of her. I gave her a questioning glance and continued to walk past her. She stopped me. "Really," her smile was almost smug. "You helped me, even." I glared at her.

"Nimaroel, why don't you just leave me alone?" I snapped.

"Look," she said, trying to grab my arm. Her eyebrow arched suggestively. "I had an amazing morning because of you, so I am just thanking you, alright?" she said before turning on her heels and strutting away. I stared after her blankly. What in Ilúvatar's name did _that _mean? And of course, I had to run after her and find out. Damn my curiosity.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I demanded, catching up to her. "I did you no favors. If you sat and talked to Legolas about how evil I am then good for you, but I would hardly classify that as an amazing morning." I sneered hatefully before trying to walk away again, but her cackling laughter caught me off guard and I had to stay to hear her explanation.

"Are you that self-centered?" she asked, before continuing. "And _I _hardly considered Legolas' _moans _as talking about how evil you are, but then again, perhaps I was mistaken." With that, she made sure she got as far away from me as possible, nearly running up the stairs of the foyer. I stared after her in complete shock. She must be kidding, I thought. Legolas would not dare.

I spent the rest of my day worrying about Legolas and Aragorn. Finally, the front doors to the castle swung open and a group of Elves came walking in, rather beat up and bloody. Some even looked seriously injured; a few were being brought in on the shoulders of others, and some where desperately clinging to others' arms to support themselves. I stood in horror, watching until I finally saw Legolas and Aragorn, walking side-by-side, their heads down. Legolas had a rather nasty cut on his forehead and Aragorn's clothes over his right arm were torn, dried blood crusting over the tear. I ran into the crowd and embraced them both. They showed no emotion.

"I was so worried! You are both hurt! What happened out there?" I could not contain myself.

"The Orcs outnumbered us by at least fifty," Aragorn started as I ran my fingers over his bloodied arm. He flinched slightly. I stared up at him, concerned. I turned to Legolas and inspected the cut above his right eye.

"You should put something on that," I suggested. The chaos of the soldiers returning from battle had put Nimaroel out of my mind, but one look into Legolas' eyes and her words had returned, stinging like a sword to the flesh. "Legolas, Nimaroel said something very curious earlier," I began. Legolas inhaled quickly, his body becoming ever so slightly more rigid. He cleared his throat. His eyes moved away from mine, and I could tell he was trying very hard not to look at me.

"What did she say?" he finally asked, reluctantly. Aragorn took this as his cue to leave. As he walked away, he turned and gave Legolas a glance that said clearly 'good luck.' I furrowed my brow. Aragorn knew something I did not.

"She thanked me."

"She what?" Legolas seemed almost disinterested. I could tell it was an act.

"She thanked me for hurting you and said she had a lovely morning. I replied that talking about me to you should not classify as a 'lovely morning,' but then she said the very curious thing." I searched Legolas' eyes, which were still looking anywhere but into mine, for truth. For a denial. But none came. I continued, "She said your _moans _should not be considered _talking_," I finished. Legolas swallowed hard.

"I don't know what she's talking about," Legolas replied hurriedly.

"Look me in the eyes and say that," I insisted. Legolas' eyes finally found mine again, and the look in them was insincere.  
"I don't know…" his voice trailed off. I found my breath coming in short gasps, and my heartbeat quickened.

"Legolas!" I said loudly. "_Tell _me you did not have _sex _with Nimaroel," I insisted. Legolas bit his lower lip and looked at me almost apologetically, which only worsened my attitude. "Legolas, you could not possibly have." He swallowed again, and wrenched his eyes away from mine. A knotting feeling emerged in my stomach and my entire body was covered in goosebumps. I felt hurt, dejected, betrayed, and worst of all, that horrible knot in the pit of my stomach – jealous. "How could--" I began, but Legolas cut me off.

"How dare you ask me questions like this?" Legolas said between his teeth. "How dare you even _think _of asking me 'how could you.' What makes you think you have the right to ask me that after what you did last night?" Legolas was beyond angry. He grabbed my arm and led me forcefully down the hallway, and nearly threw me into my room. I looked at him pleadingly. "And _do not _look at me that way. I have already told you it is completely unflattering," Legolas said vehemently. He slammed the door behind us and came closer to me. I walked backwards, slowly. Legolas walked closer to me, forcing me to sit down on my bed to escape the nearness of his fuming words. "Last night I was looking for you after dinner. I wanted to apologize to you, for the awful things I said to you. I saw you, your back _pressed _against the wall, Lafathnin's fingers inside you--"

"Legolas, please," I begged. I now understood the dreadfulness of what he saw last night, and I regretted it. I regretted it. Legolas kept moving closer, and I felt his legs on either side of mine, pressed against the side of the bed.

"No, you will hear this," Legolas insisted. "I saw you with your leg wrapped around him, his fingers inside of you. I watched you moan in pleasure, and slide gracefully to the floor when you realized I was watching. Do you know how badly I wished that was me? Do you know how badly I wanted to pick you back up and wrap your leg around _me_, whisper in your ear exactly how I feel about you and what I want to do to you?" Legolas' face was in mine, and tears of rage began to form in his eyes. I had already begun crying silently, and I lifted my hand to wipe the tears from my cheeks. Legolas grabbed my arm violently. "Leave them there. They make me believe you have some sort of emotion other than apathy; that one I know you've got down," Legolas sneered. I sniffled. "Yes, I had sex with Nimaroel. Do you want to know exactly how it went?" This was torture. I shook my head violently. "I think I'll tell you anyway."

"Legolas, no!" I implored. A malicious grin spread across his face.

"After she left your room this morning, she found me in mine," he began spitefully. "She took me in her arms as I cried, telling me how awful you were and how much she wished I would see her for once, see how she pined away for me like I do for you, give her just one taste of me like I wanted from you. I realized she was right, and we began to kiss. I'll never forget her smell: a mix of honey and clean clothes." Legolas' eyes became vacant, distant, and for a moment I believed he would stop. The tears kept falling down my cheeks, and I did not believe I could bear to hear the rest. He had never been with someone before; she had been his first. Nimaroel had been his first, and I could not handle it.

"Legolas, please…" His eyes became engaged again, and I realized that with every bit of hurt I felt, he felt more pleasure in my pain.

"She began taking off my clothes. I saw her eyes light up with pleasure at the sight of my naked body," he began, rueful pleasure in his voice. "I took her dress off; her hair cascaded down to her waist. She crawled on top of me and I…" By this time, I was sobbing. Legolas was still holding my arm, and I did not dare reach up with my other. My face must have been red, my eyes shut tightly, the scene playing out before me. No one had ever treated me like this before. The welcomed pause was long, and I realized he had actually stopped. The grip he had on my arm began to loosen, and I opened my eyes cautiously, sniffling and stifling my sobs. I saw his honey brown eyes looking at me with such passion, such sorrow that I almost felt sorry for him. Almost. I could tell his spell of rage had ended, and I was no longer afraid of him. I jerked my arm from his grasp and wiped my cheeks. I was breathing heavily.

"Legolas, please leave now," I whispered, entreating him. His eyes kept darting from one of mine to the other. He looked remorseful and ashamed. Gently, he placed one of his hands on my cheek and wiped another tear from my eye with his thumb. The act of kindness after such a monstrous incident sent me reeling, and tears began to brim over and fall quickly down my cheeks once again. I closed my eyes and let my head fall forward. Legolas caught my body and picked me up, laying me down on my bed. I curled into a ball and cried. Legolas sat next to me on the bed, stroking my hair and rubbing my back for the next hour or so. How sweet of him.

After a while, I stopped crying and realized how angry I was. Legolas had slept with someone else out of spite, and had just thrown me into my room to explain the entire incident to me.

"Legolas, you are the most horrid creature I have ever met," I said, sitting up and looking into his eyes. He sighed.

"I'm sorry," he replied, distress in his voice. "I just got so upset," Legolas tried to explain. I shook my head and sniffled again.

"No, _I'm _sorry," I heard myself admit. Why in the name of Ilúvatar was _I _apologizing? Oh right. He _had _just made it very clear that I had broken his heart – something I never meant to do.

"Please, do not," Legolas said, standing.

"No, Legolas," I insisted, "I am sorry. I cannot imagine how that must have been for you." Legolas hung his head. "Please do not think on it anymore. Lafathnin and I were…"

"I care not," Legolas replied quickly. "I…I must go now."

"What is going to happen with the Orcs?" I asked, eyeing the cut on his forehead and remembering that Nimaroel had, in fact, _not _put it there. I winced. Legolas' eyes moved up as if he was trying to see the cut on his own forehead, and he sighed, shaking his head.

"I'm not sure. They had us greatly outnumbered today, and we cannot know whether or not that had been all of them."

"But…everyone got out safely, though they outnumbered you," I said.

"I would not say 'safely,'" Legolas said, indicating his cut. "Even the best got scratched a little," he winked. I giggled. "We got away but there could be many more." I nodded, and without another word, Legolas exited my room. I stared after him and fell back on my bed, exhausted from worrying and crying.


	15. The Battle that Claimed Lives

I woke up to a soft knock on my door. Hoping the creature behind it was neither Legolas nor Lafathnin, I muttered a regretful, "Come in." The door opened and Aragorn appeared.

"I heard what happened," he said, walking over to me and sitting on the side of my bed. I looked at him quizzically, testing him to see if he was told everything. "Legolas was so upset," was all he said, and I sat up to interrogate him.

"What exactly did he say?" I asked.

"Just that he told you what happened with him and Nimaroel--"

"Which you knew about and were not going to tell me!" I protested, hitting him in the shoulder, which must have sent pain down his wounded arm because he cringed. "Sorry."

"Legolas said he did not want you to know because he was ashamed," Aragorn explained. I scowled. "As he should be, of course. I find it absolutely ridiculous to give oneself to someone else when one's heart belongs to another," Aragorn finished softly, looking me in the eyes.

"Aragorn, I do not love Legolas," I replied, throwing the blankets off my legs. How had they gotten there?

"Whether that is the truth or not," Aragorn continued, "he loves you, and he gave himself to Nimaroel. He will regret it for as long as he lives, giving himself to her first. He wanted it to be you."

"_Aragorn_!" I exclaimed, turning red. Legolas had lost himself to her but had wanted to lose himself to me. I could not imagine how much he regretted it.

"It's something he cannot get back, Tia," Aragorn said scornfully. I was tired of hearing it.

"Aragorn, you are being uncharacteristically distant," I said, changing the subject. Aragorn raised one eyebrow at me questioningly. "You do not flirt with me anymore! It makes me feel unwanted," I laughed. Aragorn grinned.

"Well, the lady of my best friend's dreams wants me instead." Cheek! There it was! I grinned.

"How could she not? Look at that irresistible beard," I replied, grabbing at the hairs on his chin. He swatted my arm away.

"Seriously, Tia, I cannot act like this toward you anymore."

"What? Why?" I was almost hurt.

"Legolas."

"Damn him."

"_Tia_! We can play in private," he began, at which I had to stifle a giggle. He rolled his eyes, "but in public, no flirting, okay?"

"Of course not, _Lord _Aragorn," I replied in the best regal voice I could muster.

"Are you alright?" he asked before taking his leave.

"Why does everyone ask me that?" I wondered aloud. "I'm fine."

"I cannot imagine being told the story of a sexual encounter between a loved one and another," Aragorn said, at which I would have protested, but he walked away too soon and I was left to dress myself and figure out what the plan was for that day.

A few hours later, I found myself wandering the castle aimlessly once again. Another alert had been sent out, and the soldiers had rushed to the edges of the forest once again. A sudden obstruction of my path interrupted my thoughts. Ilúvatar, was this déja vu?

"Hi Tialyn," Nimaroel said, walking briskly past me. Hi?

"What?" I said, spinning around to look at her. She turned her head and stopped walking.

"I just said 'hi,'" she replied. I raised both eyebrows incredulously.

"…_Why_?" I asked. Nimaroel sighed and walked up to me.

"He loves you," Nimaroel said. "He _loves _you, and if he honestly loves someone, then who am I to tell him he cannot? I would it were I, but if it cannot be, then why should it not be you?" She was making a lot of sense. Strange. "If you hurt him again, I will kill you," she finished before turning and walking away. I stared after her, my mouth gaping open. Had Nimaroel just said it was _okay _that Legolas loves me and not her? Had Aragorn just told me he could not flirt with me in public? Did Legolas honestly tell me about having _sex _with Nimaroel?

Dazed, I continued my circle of the castle until late that night, when the soldiers finally returned. I ran to the entrance, immediately spying Legolas' head among the others. I ran up to him.

"Legolas!" To his surprise, I jumped into his arms and squeezed him. When I let him go, I surveyed the damage. The cut above his right eye was healing fine, but his left leg was bleeding profusely and his face looked paler than usual. His lips were virtually drained of all color, and his eyes seemed almost empty. He limped forward pitifully, and every step seemed to cause him great pain. "Legolas, are you alright?"

"Just a cut," was all he could say before he fell forward. I tried to catch him, but his archer's body was too heavy for me to hold up, so I helped him gently to the ground.

"Someone get a nurse! _Quickly_!" I screamed, distraught. Elves began to gather around Legolas and me, making the air tight around us. "Move, move, he can't breathe," I insisted, pushing some people aside. What was wrong with him, and where was Aragorn? Minutes later, a nurse appeared at my side.

"He has lost a lot of blood," she said, indicating his leg. "I need help carrying him to health hall." A few Elves gracefully picked him up above their shoulders and began walking up the stairs to the third floor. I followed frantically.

"Miss, do not worry," the nurse said, turning to me. "He will be fine, but you should not come up here." I glared at her like I would kill her, but she replied in a calm voice. "The Prince will be fine, miss," she insisted. "Do not come up here. You may visit him later, but right now he must be taken care of and we do not need anyone in the way." With that, she disappeared into the health wing and I was left on the stairs, weary and anxious. I had to find Aragorn.

I rushed down the stairs to the foyer and looked around at the soldiers who were straggling in. No sign of Aragorn. I ran up to the only Elf I recognized, Lafathnin.

"Tialyn, I have been waiting for you--" Lafathnin began, but I put one hand up to signal that I did not come to talk.

"Where is Aragorn?" I asked, ignoring the piece of an arrow I saw sticking out of his arm. Lafathnin lowered his head in silence. "Lafathnin! _Where _is he?" I demanded.

"He fell," Lafathnin replied softly. The breath caught in my throat.

"Excuse me?"

"We did not have anyone to carry him back," Lafathnin answered.

"He's still _out there_?" I screamed, my eyes widening.

"Tialyn, there is no use," he began, but I sprinted out of the doors of the foyer and began to run in the direction of the returning soldiers who were still on the path. As I ran past them, they threw me weird, worried glances. One grabbed my arm but I wrenched away and kept running until I reached the outskirts of the forest. I stopped moving and breathing.

The sight before me was like none other I had seen. Trees were burnt to the ground; everywhere there were bodies, bodies of Orcs, bodies of Elves, all dead. Blood spattered what trees remained standing. Smoke fled into the sky, turning it almost completely grey. I gasped, and started walking around slowly, searching for Aragorn.

"Aragorn!" I yelled, my voice shaky and cracked. Tears began forming in my eyes again. "Aragorn!" I yelled again, seeing body after body of Elves I had seen around the castle. "_ARAGORN!_" At this, I saw one body on the ground move ever so slightly, and I ran over to it, falling on my knees beside it. The body was that of Aragorn, a twitching, bloody, broken mess. I began to sob. "Aragorn," I said softly. "Aragorn, please, _please _don't be dead." I rocked on my knees back and forth, praying to the gods to save him. Like in a dream, a white horse suddenly appeared, carrying on its back an old man clad in white. Gandalf. "_GANDALF! OVER HERE!_" I screamed hysterically, waving my arms and standing. The horse turned toward me, galloping so fast I could almost not see it move.

"Whoa, Shadowfax," Gandalf said when he reached me. "I can guess what happened here," he said, dismounting and picking up Aragorn's decrepit body and sitting him up on the horse. "He is not dead. I must get him to Imladris as soon as possible," Gandalf said, climbing back onto his horse.

"Take me with you," I pleaded.

"Find another route; we must fly," Gandalf insisted. "I'm sorry I cannot stay to talk, but if I am to save him, I must go," and without another word he was gone. I fell to my knees again, sobbing into my hands. I would have stayed there all night, but a pair of weak hands pulled me to my feet.

"He is asking for you, Tialyn," I heard Nimaroel say. I opened my eyes and saw her standing next to me amid the bodies upon bodies of Orcs and Elves whom she probably knew. I saw the tears on her cheeks and immediately sympathized with her. "Please come," she insisted, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the castle. The sky outside was dark when she fetched me, and we both walked in a hurried state of bewilderment all the way back to the castle.

"What happened?" I asked, not really needing to know.

"Orcs," she replied, at which I almost scoffed, but remembered she was as baffled as I. "Hundreds," was all she said before I realized we were in the hospital wing at the castle. I saw Legolas' pale face against a white pillow in a bed, and ran over to him.

"Tia," he said softly, opening his eyes as I came up. "Tell…" I could see it was a struggle for him to speak. "me…Aragorn…" His voice came in harsh whispers.

"Gandalf has him," I replied. "He's taking him to Imladris." Legolas nodded.

"The…only…place…"

"They will heal him," I agreed, not completely wholeheartedly.

Legolas must have heard the doubt in my voice because he nodded and said, "You…know." I did. If anyone could heal him, it would be the Elves left in Imladris. I would have asked Legolas if he was alright, but he was very obviously in a lot of pain, so instead I grabbed his hand and began stroking it. He smiled before closing his eyes again and falling asleep. I stood next to him for hours, watching his uncomfortable sleep that kept him twisting and sweating in his bed. I wanted to wake him to stop him from dreaming, but knew he needed rest. Instead, I climbed into bed next to him and placed one hand on his heart. This calmed him, and he stopped twisting and making concerned faces in his sleep. The rest of the night, he slept soundly.


	16. Farewell to Mirkwood

I woke the next morning to birds chirping outside. I stretched my arms over my head and opened my eyes lazily, immediately noting the pain in my neck and back. I glanced next to me and was startled to see a sleeping Legolas, looking peaceful and innocent in the light that poured through the windows in the hospital wing. His face was still pale, his lips void of color, but his breath did not come in spastic gasps anymore. I lay there for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of his hand on his chest. Grudgingly, I pushed myself to a sitting position, trying hard not to wake Legolas. To my chagrin, Legolas' honey brown eyes fluttered open, and they were currently eyeing me. I must have looked horrid; my hair was surely matted and tangled, circles must had formed under my eyes. I smiled slightly and turned away from him, placing my bare feet on the cold, unwelcoming floor. I felt a slight brush of my arm as I tried to stand, and I turned back around to look at Legolas.

"Please stay," he whispered, barely audibly. I could tell it pained him a little to speak, and I put a finger to my lips to indicate quiet. I shook my head.

"I have to go to Imladris," I said almost reluctantly. Legolas gasped and sat up, his face imploring me not to leave. Ilúvatar, he was a pro at the pity face, but I had to hold my ground. "I have to help them heal Aragorn. I should have gone last night," I sighed. "But when you are healed, come find me there," I added. Legolas sighed in defeat, nodding. "I will send word when I find out how he is, but now I must go and dress and pack, and ask your father how best to reach Imladris from here," I explained. Legolas nodded again. I leaned forward and wrapped my arms carefully around him. He returned the gesture, and I kissed him on the cheek. "Do not be too long, now," I smiled. Somehow I stood and made my feet walk, unwillingly, away from Legolas' bed and that horribly depressing face down to my room.

I began to pack my things, and realized how strange everything felt, leaving this place. I had been in Mirkwood now for quite a while, and was unprepared to leave at such a short notice, and under such awful circumstances. I guessed it might have been for the best, though, because I was running low on clean clothes and missed my Imladris home. However, home would not be as enjoyable anymore, knowing what I would be missing in Mirkwood. Of course, I thought to myself, not as much drama would take place in Imladris, which could make it quite lonely. I finished packing and stared around the room as if silently saying my goodbyes. I resolved to find King Thranduil and Nimaroel, and maybe even Lafathnin and bid them farewell before I left.

I exited my room, taking one last glance at it, and shut the door behind me. Luckily, Nimaroel was walking across the foyer (and I say "luckily" because I had no idea how to find the king) and straight toward me. The look on her face did not suggest hostility, so I found it easy to approach her.

"I'm going back to Imladris," I said. "I wanted to say goodbye." Nimaroel eyed me with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Well, have a safe trip back and," she paused as if the next part of her sentence took a lot of strength to say, "come back to visit," she finished, almost choking on her own words. I smiled despite myself.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it," I responded. "Can you tell me how to find King Thranduil?" She nodded and pointed me in the right direction. I climbed the stairs to the third floor and knocked on an ominous-looking wooden door. A voice from inside implored me to enter, so I obliged.

Sitting on a comfortable-looking chair in the oversized room, King Thranduil was bent over a desk, his head in his hands. I cleared my throat after surveying the room a bit. It must have been his study. At the sound, King Thranduil lifted his head and smiled.

"Ah, Tialyn," said he, beckoning me forward with his hand. "I see you mean to leave Mirkwood," he asked, indicating my baggage with his eyes.

"Yes sir," I said.

"I will be sad to see you go. I admit I have been busy lately, and have not been able to see much of anyone since Legolas returned," he frowned slightly, "but all the same, I hope you felt welcomed in your stay."

It was all I could do to prevent myself from smirking, and instead I smiled graciously. "I have been very welcome," I agreed.

"Do come back and visit," he insisted, the look in his eyes sincere. He paused for a moment, and began again. "I…well, I know Legolas has taken quite a liking to you--" he stammered a bit before continuing, "and I mean that in a platonic way, of course." Right. "And he will miss you greatly, so do not keep him waiting too long."

I smiled again. "Of course not, your highness," I bowed my head slightly.

"Please, just...Thranduil," he replied.

"Well, _Thranduil_," I started. "I am going back to Imladris and have told Legolas he should meet me there when he has recovered." The king smiled and nodded.

"Ah, yes," he chuckled slightly.

"I must ask…in what direction should I travel to reach Imladris?" At which Thranduil laughed again, and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and drew a map for me, reassuring me that he would arrange for me to take one of their horses home and ask Nimaroel to make sure I had enough food for the journey. I smiled and thanked him gratefully, bowing again and exiting the room.


	17. The Return to Imladris

I know, I know--I promised I'd be around more often and where was I? Certainly not around. I have no excuse other than the same one I used last time. I am so busy with school! What? It's the summer? Oh...right. Well, to tell you the truth, there are a lot of things to do to get prepared to go to college for the first time. I'm really intimidated, especially since I'm moving all the way from Alabama to Louisiana, back to my birthplace. I'm excited, too, though. I already have a few friends going to Loyola University down there, and me and a buddy of mine (my best friend's boyfiend, actually) are both going to Tulane this fall, so it should be a lot of fun...especially come Mardi Gras. Anyway, that's my excuse for being away for so damn long, but to make up for it I have really been working on this thing and I think I might actually finish it (eventually)! I don't usually finish stories I begin because I get so tired of having to take the story to all the boring places it requires to get to the good parts...but if I want to be a novelist when I grow up, I need to at least be able to FINISH one simple story, huh? So, I have for you eight scintillating chapters at one time. I know you're excited. Also, keep in mind this fanfiction is rated mature and for good reason. Hope you guys aren't too mad at me and still want to read my fanfiction, and if you ARE too mad to continue it (or have forgotten the basic plotline), I forgive you anyway because I write mainly for my own pleasure... I only put it up here so you guys can benefit from it as well, in whatever way possible. Well, enough of my babbling. Here's the next chapter.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Lord Elrond," I said, bowing before the towering Elf in front of me.

"Your leave of absence has been long," Elrond said, extending his hand to me and helping me to my feet. "We are glad you have returned."

I did not wish to be rude, but my sole purpose for returning when I had was for Aragorn, and I had to ask, "Is Aragorn alright?"

Elrond sighed. "He is still unconscious, but we have kept him breathing. His wounds are deep and have not stopped bleeding; he has lost much blood, but we have our best healers looking for the herbs we need to save him, and we are doing everything in our power to keep him alive. He is my son now, and I will not give up on his life, for my sake or my daughter's."

"Can I see him?" I asked, knowing what the answer would be.

"At the moment, those allowed to see him are only the healers and Arwen," Elrond replied. "Arwen has not left his side since he arrived here with Gandalf." Of course she had not. I hoped she was a pillar of strength next to him instead of a sobbing mess.

"I understand," I said, a tear falling down my cheek. Elrond saw this and wiped it away.

"We will not let him die," Elrond said confidently. "We need him. Gondor needs him. Middle-earth needs him." With that, Elrond took my leave and I was left to myself. I found my feet taking me toward the house of an old friend.

I reached the base of a well-known tree and grinned, picking up a rock and throwing it at the door. Immediately, a dark-haired Elf's head popped out of the open window, a grin on her face.

"TIALYN!" she exclaimed, throwing open the door and beckoning me up. I climbed the ladder to her flat and threw myself into her arms.

"Cladeth," I whispered in her ear. She hugged me tightly.

"I thought you'd never come back!" she smiled, letting me go and grabbing my hand, pulling me into her room. We sat down on her bed.

"Of course I came back," I laughed.

"I heard you went to Mirkwood! You must tell me all about it. Are the females as shrewish and the males as impolite as stories tell us?" I laughed.

"Well I certainly did meet some shrewish and impolite Elves," I replied.

"I want the story from start to finish," Cladeth implored. "Don't skip any details."

"Oh, Ilúvatar," I sighed, "this is going to take a while." So I began, and even threw in most of the details of the Fellowship of the Ring so she would understand where Legolas had been in life. She was bewildered at their story, and shocked at my own. I finally finished, only to look up and see Cladeth staring daggers at me.

"How could you do that to Prince Legolas?" Her voice was almost frighteningly vicious.

"Cladeth," I said calmly, "remember this is Tialyn, your neighbor, your best friend? Hello? Take my feelings into consideration here." My words seemed to snap her out of her fit of judgment, and she smiled apologetically.

"But he is beautiful, isn't he?" she asked, her voice dreamy. I grinned.

"I thought I said that!" I teased. "Damn him for being so gorgeous. Otherwise I would never put up with him."

"So you never said goodbye to Lafathnin?" Cladeth asked.

"No, but then again I am not quite sure I care too much," I admitted.

"You seemed to care too much to consider Legolas' feelings," she replied snidely. I raised one eyebrow at her.

"Ilúvatar, Cladeth! I tell you my story and you take the side of someone you have never met," I said.

"Sorry," she apologized. "His case is just very moving."

"Yeah, well, let's forget about it and do something fun," I grinned. Cladeth nodded, grinning in return.

"But first," she said, "I will not let you forget to write Legolas." I shook my head and promised I would write him later, after our evening activities.

Every week or so before I left Imladris, Cladeth and I would dress in our very best and attend the Royal Dinner. Because so many of our people had left, there was enough room and enough food to feed everyone one night a week, so Elrond had decided to have a Royal Dinner every seven nights to bring Imladris to undisputed harmony and unity. This way, every Elf knew every other Elf in the wood, and we would all live in peace together, sharing and playing and being friends. Now, there were about one hundred Elves living in Imladris, and some of them were quite handsome. Tonight, I guessed the only Elves not attending would be the healers and Arwen, who were busy saving Aragorn. I almost felt guilty for having a good night when Aragorn was in so much pain, but I realized that there was nothing I could do about it, and if the healers of Imladris could not heal him, no one could—and they would certainly heal him whether or not I joined the Royal Dinner that night. So, I swallowed my doubts and helped Cladeth pick out her most flattering outfit and fix her hair. After she was ready, we traveled to my flat—two hundred feet away—and dusted off my dress as well.

"It is a shame your red dress is not clean," Cladeth mused. "You know how it looks on you."

"How, you mean spectacular?" I teased.

"You know it does," Cladeth said, pulling my red hair into a tight bun and beseeching me to turn around so she could check out my appearance. The dress I wore was a long, flowing lavender. The sleeves were pulled off the shoulders, and the darker lavender fabric bunched at my breasts, pushing them up to new heights and showing off their roundedness. Cladeth whistled. "You look fabulous!"

"As do you!" I replied, eyeing her silk, bright yellow dress that dipped down to her cleavage and flowed outward at her knees. Her dark hair was flowing down her back, two thick strands pulled into a small ponytail behind her head. Her dark brown hair always brought out her vivid green eyes. I always envied her beauty and told her so, but she always said the same about me, so I accepted her as my best friend. Well, that, and she was great.

"Let's take this dinner by storm," Cladeth grinned maliciously. "Gorgeous Elves, here we come!" Every Royal Dinner, Cladeth and I picked up a different Elf. One hundred Elves and still growing under the popularity of Men running Middle-earth and Elves basking in their peace, we never picked up the same two. Of course, we would lead them back to our respective homes, get a little excited, and let them go without fulfilling their wildest fantasies. We did not sleep with every Elf we took home; in fact, we did not sleep with any of the Elves we took home, but we did give them little pieces of us. We had both lost ourselves to Elves previously (and, as I have mentioned, one Man for me), but never under the circumstance of love, and were not selfish with our bodies or our abilities. Tonight would be one fuck of a night; I had not had any desires fulfilled since that night with Lafathnin, and everyone knows how that turned out.

Cladeth and I linked arms and hurried toward the clearing where the Royal Dinner took place. I felt eyes turn toward us as we walked up, taking our seats near the middle of the table. Time went on, and I found myself wrapped up in conversations with Elves I had missed while I had been gone, including one charming Elf I had always dreamt of picking up but never had the nerve to talk to until now; now, I had more to say than I ever had. Of course, I left out all details of Legolas.


	18. The Royal Dinner

As I said at the beginning of the last chapter - THIS FANFICTION IS NOT A VERA CLEAN ONE, meaning only one thing: smut. So continue at your own risk. This chapter is full of it. Oh, you love it, admit it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner finally began, and the food was the best I had had since I left. Imladris food could not be beaten.

"Are you going to pick up Therhal?" Cladeth whispered to me, indicating the gorgeous and alluring Elf who I could finally talk to. "He's been your target for quite a few Royal Dinners, hasn't he?" I nodded.

"Yes, but I'm not sure I want to pick up any Elves tonight," I admitted under my breath.

"And break a Royal Dinner tradition?" Cladeth gasped. I was going to refute that I had been gone for so long and needed a quiet night to myself, but I heard her say something else almost inaudibly.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing," she said whimsically. "I just think I know why."

"Why?" I challenged.

"Legolas." Ha! Legolas? Why would he be the reason I did not want to pick up anyone?

"You're absolutely wrong!" I said between my teeth.

"Okay, sure," Cladeth responded, shrugging. "I don't care what you do. I'm picking up Pyfel," she said, indicating the gorgeous, dark Elf sitting across the table from us. I was still incredulous at her assertion, and wanted to prove her wrong.

"Fine, I'm picking up Therhal," I said.

"You don't _have _to," she replied.

"I want to." And that was the end of that conversation.

The food was so good I wanted to eat until I was full, but knowing I wanted to pick up Therhal, I ate moderately and drank exceedingly.

"If you have to get this drunk to pick someone up, then quit now," Cladeth whispered.

"I don't have to get drunk! I just want to," I muttered.

"Right, well, I am about to leave. Pyfel has agreed to accompany me home," Cladeth said. "Coming?"

I turned to Therhal and asked boldly, "Want to come back to my place?" Therhal grinned and nodded, so I grabbed his hand and followed Cladeth and Pyfel back in the direction of our flats.

I fumbled up the ladder to my flat and threw a dirty plate in the sink as Therhal reached the top of the ladder. "Sorry the place is a bit of a mess, I have not been here for a while," I conceded.

"No need to worry, I understand," Therhal said, putting his arms around me from behind. I pulled away, almost disgusted at his touch. He would have noticed had he not been as intoxicated as I. Why was I so uncomfortable?

"This way," I said, signifying my bedroom. He followed me inside, nearly throwing me onto my bed and jumping on top. I wanted to cringe in revulsion. I closed my eyes and tried to picture something I did want so as not to scare Therhal away. I did want to be touched, but not by him. Suddenly, I saw before me long, blond hair falling before an archer's upper body, thin lips and honey brown eyes moving closer to my face. I kissed those lips, but the kiss was not as I had remembered, and my eyes fluttered open to see Therhal's brown hair and admittedly gorgeous body hovering over me, his lips wet with my kiss and his dark brown eyes picturing me without clothes on. I swallowed hard, trying to forget the hallucination and running my hand down Therhal's chest to feel a nice bulge in his pants. I slipped my hand inside and touched the soft skin of his penis, grabbing hold of the shaft and rubbing up and down. His moans were not nearly as satisfying as I pictured Legolas' moans to be. Wait, what was I thinking? What was all this about Legolas' _moans_? I had to stop. No more Legolas. Only Therhal. I forced myself to keep my eyes open.

After a while, I pushed Therhal off of me. He rolled over and I climbed on top of him, moaning playfully into his ear. I licked the sensitive tip and worked my way down his neck and to his chest, trailing kisses down his chest and down his stomach until I reached his now-exposed manhood. I licked the tip of it before sliding it into my mouth skillfully. Therhal threw his head back and moaned in pleasure, putting both hands on the back of my head and lightly forcing himself in and out of my mouth. I closed my eyes and pictured what Legolas would do. He would have stopped me and picked me up, placing me on my back and running his tongue down the front of my body until he reached… No! I opened my eyes again, nearly choking. I stopped and climbed back up to kiss Therhal's neck, unable to make myself continue what I had started. Therhal seemed displeased, but decided sex would work just the same and, without warning, forced himself into me. I moaned in delight. It had been far too long. I closed my eyes again.

This time I saw Legolas' face below mine, staring into my eyes and pulling me close as I moved back and forth. I heard his breath in my ear and felt his strong arms around me. I felt sweat form between our bodies and I whimpered with satisfaction in his ear.

"Tialyn," I expected Legolas' voice to say, but I reopened my eyes to see Therhal's pleased face before mine. I wanted to keep going, to do to Legolas what he did to me, but I could not. I nearly jumped off of Therhal. "What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up and eyeing my naked body as I stood next to my bed.

"Nothing, I…I just need to be alone," I said. Therhal looked totally dissatisfied, but said he understood, and he gathered his clothes and left. I threw on a robe and found a piece of parchment and a feather and ink, and scrolled on it in Elvish,

Dear Legolas,

I made it back to Imladris alright. Aragorn is still unconscious, but I believe the healers will bring him back to us. I am unable to visit him at the moment; only the healers and Arwen are allowed to see him. Imladris is just as I left it.

I wanted to write how I really felt, something to the extent of "I had an awful night tonight, and I miss you very much. Come here now," but instead I finished,

Come visit soon.

Love,  
Tialyn

I folded the parchment and immediately took it to Elrond to have it sent directly to Legolas in Mirkwood by one of the night messengers. Elrond eyed me quizzically, but I told him I just wanted to let Legolas know as soon as possible how Aragorn was doing, and Elrond accepted the letter and handed it to a messenger.

"It will reach him in three days' time," the messenger assured me, and took off on his horse.


	19. The Healed

In the morning, I was awoken to the noise of someone climbing into my flat. "Tia?"

"I'm in here," I replied. I sat up as Cladeth walked into my room.

"What happened last night?" Cladeth asked quizzically. She sounded as if she knew something weird had occurred.

"Why?" I replied nonchalantly.

"A little while after we had gone back to our flats, I heard someone walking past mine, swearing under his breath. Sounded a lot like Therhal to me," Cladeth explained.

I sighed, yieldingly. "I couldn't keep going," I confessed. "We started to, but I just couldn't."

"I understand," Cladeth said, seeing the hurt in my eyes and putting my head on her shoulder, hugging me. I did not want to seem weak or pitiful, so I pulled away before the hug became too filled with sympathy.

"I was just too tired," I lied. Cladeth eyed me but nodded; I doubted she believed me, but she said nothing more about it. "So, what happened with Pyfel?" I countered, changing the subject.

"The usual," she laughed, which normally meant she fooled around with him a bit but let him go before giving him everything. I smiled in a congratulatory way, and stood to dress myself when an unfamiliar voice interrupted me.

"Miss Tialyn," said the voice from below my flat. The voice was strong and royal, and I stuck my head out of my door to get a look at the intruder. Before I could ask his name, he continued, "Elrond sent word that Aragorn has regained consciousness and is allowed visitors." That's all he needed to say, and I was dressed and ready in a matter of seconds, hurrying down to the blond Elf clad in armor and a silver tunic and leggings. Cladeth followed close behind me.

We reached the hall in which Aragorn was being kept, and I burst in, running to the only occupied bed in sight. Arwen sat in a chair nearby, asleep.

"Oh, Aragorn!" I nearly cried, rushing to him and almost jumping on top of him. He mustered a weak laugh and put one arm around me.

"Shh," he implored, eyeing Arwen and motioning for me to sit on the edge of his bed. I obliged. Cladeth came walking up quietly. "Cladeth, how very nice to see you again," Aragorn said in a whisper as she bowed before him. "Please, none of that. I am on my death bed," he joked, and I shot him a wild glare.

"Don't you dare say that," I insisted. "Aragorn," I hugged him again, "I'm so glad you are alright."

"Thank the healers," he replied. "I am happy to see I brought you back to Imladris," he smiled, and then his eyes darkened. "Where is Legolas? Is he alright?"

"He was hurt, but he will live," I explained. "A pretty bad wound to the thigh. He lost a lot of blood, but not near as much as you did." Aragorn grinned.

"Always have to beat the competition," Aragorn muttered jokingly.

"Not funny," I slapped him lightly on the arm.

"Come now, do not abuse the wounded!"

"Legolas should be visiting in a few days' time, after he receives my message, if he has healed enough," I said.

"So you wrote him?" A hint of cheek.

"Aragorn, he _asked _me to write him about _you_," I responded in my defense.

"Right, you could not possibly miss him," Aragorn murmured.

"I do not!" I replied almost angrily.

"Calm down," Aragorn laughed, "And try not to wake Arwen," he said, a hint of something in his voice that both soothed me and saddened me. He cared so much for her that he would not even wake her, and she cared so much for him that she would not leave his side. I doubted that she had eaten in days. I was so jealous of their love, not because I loved Aragorn, but because I wanted what they had, and it seemed I would never attain a love as strong as theirs. Aragorn saw the dismay in my face and took my hand in his. "He'll be here soon," he assured me.

"_Aragorn--_" I insisted, but a healer walked in and told me and Cladeth that visiting hours were over, and we should leave. I nodded and sighed, hugging Aragorn once again. "Do not ever do that to me again," I begged.

"I will try," Aragorn said softly, kissing my forehead and bidding me farewell.

Three days later, I received a letter in the elegant script I recognized from Legolas' diary saying only,

I will arrive soon.


	20. An Unexpected Moment

Two days after receiving the letter, another soldier arrived at the foot of my ladder announcing that Legolas had arrived in Imladris. I was so excited I almost forgot to get dressed, but the soldier called my attention to it and I scrambled back into my flat. I wanted to throw on whatever everyday dress I had, but did not want to look a mess in front of Legolas. Why was I so worried about how I looked to Legolas? _Damn it all_, I thought as I slipped on a tight-fitting dress, colored a deep, royal blue. I pulled my hair back hastily into a half-ponytail, letting the rest of my red hair flow in curls down my back. I climbed carefully back down the ladder. The soldier looked impressed, and pulled me onto his horse and rode me to the center of Imladris.

We arrived and I practically jumped off the horse and ran in the direction Elrond normally greeted his guests. I reached an Elvish gazebo, decorated in light and silver. Legolas' back was toward me as he faced Elrond, and I ran up the three steps, bowed hurriedly and entered. Legolas turned around, noticing Elrond's eyes on me behind him, and his ears immediately perked up as a grin spread across his face.

"Legolas!" I exclaimed, running into his arms and jumping.

"Whoa!" he said, letting me down haphazardly. "I was hurt, remember?" he explained to my perplexed expression.

"Oh!" I looked down and saw the bulge around his thigh under his green leggings where a heavy bandage must have been. "Forgive me," I said, suddenly remembering who I was talking to. This was Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, for Ilúvatar's sake. Legolas' eyes narrowed at such formal language, and he choked a laugh.

"Forgiven," he replied, suppressing a grin. I glared at him playfully.

"I am so glad you are here!" I exclaimed, hugging him again and kissing him on the cheek.

"I am too. I missed you," Legolas whispered in my ear, hugging me again. I smiled inwardly, but did not allow myself to show reciprocated emotions. I only nodded. "Well, where is Aragorn?" Legolas said too hurriedly.

"This way," I said, grabbing his hand and beginning to pull him in the right direction. He wrenched his hand from mine, smiling all the while.

"We take your leave, Lord Elrond," Legolas said, bowing. I rolled my eyes and grabbed his hand again, realizing I needed not grab his hand because he could follow me just as easily, but I did not want to let go. His hand was so warm, and I could feel the strength in it that grasped mine in return. Why did his damn hand fit so well into mine?

I pulled him playfully in the direction of the health building, but when we had almost reached it, we stopped. Well, I say "we," but I mean that Legolas stopped and I had not the strength to pull him any way he did not wish to go. I turned around as I felt his hand squeeze mine a little tighter. He needed not to pull me back to him, because I was willing to go there on my own. Within seconds, I was standing in front of him, staring up into his breathtaking honey brown eyes. I opened my mouth slightly and took a deep breath. "Aragorn is only a little further that way," I whispered, motioning to the right, but Legolas ignored me. "It would only take a few minutes…" He put both of his hands on either of my cheeks, his fingers stretching behind my pointed ears. He pulled my head forward slowly, staring passionately into my sharp blues. His lips opened slightly, begging mine to touch his. I gulped. I could feel Legolas' sweet breath on my face, and I had to lower my eyes to his strangely sensuous lips when his face reached within an inch of mine. "Legolas, I--"

"Will you shut up?" he whispered, pressing his lips overpoweringly against mine. I was out of control. I felt my arms reach behind him and pull the back of his head closer. His hands were behind my head now, too, tousling my hair as his lips worked mine open. His tongue darted inside my mouth, and I obliged. He bit my lower lip softly, which sent my head reeling. I could feel nothing and everything. The world was spinning and Legolas and I were the only two in it, spinning with it, becoming a blur. Nothing else mattered. Nothing except us. A second later, I realized what was happening and pulled away, breathing hard, chill bumps forming on my arms.

"Legolas," I whispered, still only an inch from his face. His eyes searched mine.

"I know you love me," Legolas said quietly. For a moment longer I stood in his arms, looking into his eyes, enjoying the only true moment of bliss I had ever had, and then in my stupidity, wrenched myself away.

"No I do not," I replied, looking at the floor. Legolas placed his hands on my shoulders.

"What are you afraid of?" Legolas whispered. "I would never hurt you."

"You say that and yet you already have," I insisted, my voice rising, tears reaching my eyes. "You slept with Nimaroel!"

"Can you please get over that?" Legolas asked pleadingly, his voice slightly irritated. I blanched.

"Get _over _that? How about _you_ get over _me_!" I yelled back. It was only later I realized how childish this must have sounded. Legolas' brow furrowed nevertheless, obviously hurt.

"Get over you, Tialyn? How can I when I am around you all the time? When you kissed me before? When you sleep in my hospital bed with me because I am hurt? When you write 'Love Tialyn' on your letter? When you kiss me the way you did just then, like you could actually _feel _anything but apathy for just a single _moment_?" Legolas countered. I sighed, realizing what I had done to this poor Elf.

"I am sorry if I have given the impression that I want anything but friendship with you," I said reluctantly, forcing the visions of a naked Legolas underneath me out of my mind. Legolas stared at me, incredulously, wide-eyed.

"That kiss meant nothing to you?"

"Nothing," I replied in a manner I hoped was stoically.

"You are a terrible liar," Legolas replied, "but if it will make you happy, then give me a way to get over you."

"I slept with someone a few nights ago," I said hastily. Legolas eyes clouded over.

"Is that true?" he asked, but before I could answer, he stopped me with his hand, "No, I do not want to know." He gulped before continuing. "No one has ever hurt me the way you have, Tialyn—no, let me say this," he implored when I tried to stop him. "I have to tell you this. You are the only creature in Middle-earth I have loved more than Middle-earth itself; in you I found the capability of beauty beyond what can be seen with the eyes and perfection I thought could not exist, an ideal reaching past the borders of what I thought plausible. I love you, but if you insist that I let you go, I will for your own happiness," he finished. Tears were brimming over my eyes and down my cheeks. No one had ever said anything like that to me before, and I was going to let him go? "What you have just told me," he started again, "will help in giving you away." With that, he turned and walked the way we had been going, to visit Aragorn I guessed. I turned around and ran all the way to Cladeth's flat.


	21. A Perfect Dress

"You're going to the Royal Dinner tonight," Cladeth said after much consolation.

"I feel horrid," I acknowledged, "I never meant to hurt him."

"Well in my opinion you are both being quite childish, and you need to have a bit of fun tonight," Cladeth insisted.

"I want to look gorgeous," I stated, hoping to attract the attention of someone, anyone long enough to keep my mind off Legolas.

"I have the perfect dress for the occasion," Cladeth winked. She went over to her wardrobe and ruffled around in it a bit before pulling out a dress. The dress she pulled out the most gorgeous dress I had ever seen. It was like no other dress – it was less of a ball gown and more form-fitting, which was very unusual and almost completely unseen in Middle-earth, especially in Elven attire. It was silk and a deep, emerald green. The straps connected behind the neck and the bosom was tight with a small inverted triangle dip where the cleavage would be. The back reached just above the ankles and the front fell just past the knees. I gaped in disbelief.

"I cannot possibly wear _that_," I said after gazing at it for a while.

"Yes you can, and you will," Cladeth insisted, throwing it at me. It felt like sand in my hands, daring me to loosen my grip and let it fall to the floor.

"Have you ever worn this before?" I asked, holding it up in front of me to admire it.

"No, and I never will," Cladeth insisted, "because I am giving it to you."

"Where did you _get _it?"

"A friend," was all she said. "And it never looked good on me with my dark hair, but with your red hair and blue eyes, you will look more amazing than you have ever looked." I smiled. She was right.

After I put the dress on, I could not stop staring at myself in the mirror. I had not even done anything with my hair; it fell in curls down my back. "All you need is a few flowers in your hair," Cladeth said, picking bright green flowers from a vase nearby and putting them neatly in my hair. As if it had been hard to wrench myself from the mirror before, now my hair was riddled with gorgeous, glowing green flowers and I could not stop smiling. "Now you are ready," she said, appearing after a moment in a very pretty blue dress, her hair pulled back. "Let's go."


	22. Cladeth and Legolas

We arrived at the Royal Dinner slightly later than most, as always. I could not help but notice all attention on me. My eyes wandered until they rested on a figure at the other end of the table opposite Lord Elrond's seat.

"Aragorn!" I exclaimed, hurrying to him and wrapping my arms around him. He seemed totally speechless as I pulled away. His eyes fell swiftly to my chest and down to my shins and ankles, which showed from the front. "I see you are out at social events again, so you will live after all," I said, enjoying the bewildered look on his face. He opened his mouth to talk but could not quite find the words to express how he felt. "Oh, Aragorn, do stop staring and say something," I beseeched him. He swallowed hard.

"Tialyn," Aragorn finally whispered.

"There you go!" I giggled. "Go on, Balrog got your tongue?" Aragorn swallowed again. "Aragorn, please! You are making a fool of yourself now," I grinned. He breathed harder, and I could not help but glance at his lap. Doing so, I found what I was looking for and squealed. "_ARAGORN!_" I burst into a fit of laughter, and he, embarrassed, covered his lap with a napkin. "You are a married Man," I whispered in his ear when I regained my poise after noticing the quizzical looks of the Elves standing around the table.

"Eru, Tia, you have never looked more amazing," Aragorn finally said, relaxing slightly.

"Why thank you, Your Highness," I smiled, bowing before him. He was still staring as I turned and walked away, thoroughly taking pleasure in the fact that he found me that attractive. In my musing, I was caught off guard by a throat being cleared just to my left.

"Good evening, Tialyn," a sickeningly familiar voice said. I stopped and turned my head to see Legolas standing beside the dinner table, dressed in the same dark green as I. I frowned.

"I thought I told you, Legolas--" I began, but he cut me off.

"Is a friend unable to bid another friend good evening?" he asked politely with a hint of what I recognized as sarcasm. Of course he was right, damn him.

"No, no, that is fine," I agreed, walking up to him. "So, how are you?"

I believed that he was beginning to say, "Fine, and you?" but his breath caught in his throat as I stepped into better lighting. I knew he was powerless over his roving eyes, and I allowed him to look me up and down a bit before replying. By "a bit," I clearly mean minutes on end, because he could simply not take his eyes off me. I smiled politely when his vision finally rested on my face, which must have been glowing in the moonlight as Legolas' was. He was incapable of forming a complete sentence, and I guessed he had stopped trying because he was only staring at me with the most intense gaze I had ever had the displeasure to be put under. He swallowed hard, and a moment later regained his composure. "You look…" Legolas began, but did not finish. "I am…I am doing quite well, thank you." He swallowed again and allowed his eyes to do a bit more roaming before finally resting them at his feet. He took a few deep breaths as I stood there awkwardly before saying, "I have actually met a very nice Elven maiden, and I was wondering if you had the pleasure to meet her acquaintance." Of course, he could not say this while looking at me, so he said it to the ground rather than to my face.

"Oh, really?" I said, forcing more delight than I felt. "That is wonderful, who is she?"

"Ah," he said looking behind me. "Here she comes." Cladeth walked by me at just that moment and stopped right beside Legolas. Surely not.

"Cladeth, this is Legolas," I began, but I could tell from the looks in their eyes this was not the first time they had met.

"Uh, we met a few moments ago when you were talking to Aragorn," Cladeth piped up. "He really is _quite_ the charmer. You never mentioned that in your stories." I blinked incredulously. This was _not _happening. "He told me a little bit about Mirkwood and invited me for a visit," she said, turning to him and smiling flirtatiously. I could only stare wide-eyed at the spectacle before me.

"Funny you never mentioned her," Legolas said, looking at Cladeth rather than me. "How could you forget someone so beautiful?" he asked, picking up her hand and kissing it. This was happening too fast for me. I had only talked to Aragorn for a moment, and had left Legolas and my best friend to canoodle? Impossible. And yet, I had always thought Cladeth was just as pretty if not prettier than I; why was it so impossible to believe Legolas finds her beautiful, or worse, irresistible?

"You, uh, never really cared to know about my friends," I started, choosing my words carefully. "You seemed only interested in me." Okay, there, I said it. So I was being a bit manipulative. And?

"Ah, you are right," Legolas admitted, still keeping his eyes locked on Cladeth, whose lofty gaze was moving from me to Legolas. "But now that I have actually met one of your friends, I find myself more interested in her, which I am sure will be to _your _liking," he continued. I would have been more hurt by the sarcasm if I had been paying enough attention to what he was saying rather than the way he was looking at my best friend. I had to get out of here.


	23. A Wine Overdose

"You don't…_mind_, do you, Tia?" Cladeth said when everyone finally took their seats at the dinner table. To my chagrin, Legolas sat down right next to her, ignoring me completely. "I mean," she went on, "you did say that you don't love him, so, he is not off limits or anything, is he?" Damn, I had said that, hadn't I?

"No, it's…fine," I finally forced myself to say. Why was I having so much trouble with this? Legolas was a good Elf; he would treat her right, and she was my best friend! She deserved someone as sweet as he, someone who would laugh at her jokes or smile with love when the light hit her face just right, someone who would protect her and love her better than anyone could. Shit, he was that kind of Elf. Some catch. Damn him.

"You sure?" Cladeth asked, making sure I understood she had no intention of hurting me.

"Sure," I smiled.

"Good," she said, a little too hurriedly and sounding a little too relieved, "because he is brutally gorgeous and so flirtatiously cheeky. He really is perfect." She sighed in what seemed like a sort of bliss, and I could not help but feel revolted at the prospect of her and Legolas falling in love.

"Sure, he is a good kisser," I started again with excessive distaste, "but he is not much of one for a relationship." I wonder if that sounded like as much of a lie as it certainly was.

"He sure is a _good _kisser," Cladeth agreed dreamily, glancing to her right where Legolas sat staring intently at his food as if it might be dangerous to leave it unwatched. How would she know?

"Ex_cuse _me?" I said after a moment, after letting the words sink in.

"Oh," she replied, embarrassed. "While you were making small-talk with the rest of the guests, Legolas kind of…well, he kissed me." A sudden wave of revulsion swept over me, and a tight knot formed in my stomach. I hoped I did not look as sickened on the outside as I felt on the inside, and I guessed I hid it well because Cladeth smiled jovially at me. "Maybe it is a little fast, but I think I want to take him home tonight." The knot tightened and I had to force the puke back down. Damn, it had been a while since I had gotten drunk enough to puke, and I had not touched wine at all that night. What in Middle-earth was wrong with me?

"R-really?" I stuttered uncomfortably. "Like, sleep with him?" I asked cautiously, not needing to hear the answer.

"You know I don't usually," Cladeth started, "but how many times do I get the chance to fuck the Prince of Mirkwood?" Oh, the puke was rising again.

"So that is all it is? A fuck?" I hoped aloud.

"No, no," she assured me, "I really do like him, but I would not mind seeing the body underneath those clothes." Suppressing the vivid hallucinations that fought to be free, I glanced behind her and saw Legolas still intently surveying his food, every now and then putting some into his mouth with a silver utensil. I knew better than to think he was unable to hear our conversation; those Elf ears of his were well-trained in hearing the inaudible.

"It isn't as impressive as one would believe," I lied, testing the waters, eyes on Legolas. At this, he shifted in his chair slightly but did not take his eyes off his food.

"Now I know you're lying," Cladeth murmured. "Shh, I think he can hear us," she whispered in my ear.

"Really?" I rolled my eyes derisively.

"Anyway, what do you think?"

"About what?"

"Fucking him!" Cladeth whispered urgently. I squinted my eyes at her. "Are you uncomfortable with it?" she said a bit louder. Legolas must have heard that. I had to respond appropriately.

"Of course I am." I was getting great at this lying thing. "Why would I not be?" And yet the knot in my stomach grew ever tighter, and, cutting off the conversation, I reached in front of me to grab the wine glass and downed the wine immediately. "Great wine," I mused.

I sat the rest of the night at that table, ignored and dejected. Cladeth had apparently gotten what she wanted out of me: my approval, and was now busy luring Legolas into bed. They seemed much too comfortable to my liking, so I kept drinking. By the end of dinner, I was, in Elven terms, completely trashed.

"Do you need me to walk you home, dear?" Cladeth said, helping me stand.

"No, no," I replied, "You go have a nice fuck." Cladeth bit her lower lip and glanced at Legolas, whose eyes were a bit glassy as well.

"Actually, I have a few things to take care of tomorrow," Legolas nodded in Aragorn's direction. I had not spoken to him the rest of the night and felt like a terrible friend as a result; it was Aragorn's first night out of his near-deathbed and I had not bothered to have more than one short yet amusing conversation with him. Ah, I would take care of it the next day. Right now was not a good time, as I might have puked on him.

"You do?" Cladeth asked, disappointed.

"Well," Legolas paused for a moment, "I guess I have time to walk my two favorite ladies to their homes." With that, my arm was thrown over Legolas' shoulder and the three of us walked in the direction of my flat. All the way back I did not say a word for fear of embarrassing myself. It was a wonder we were even walking in the right direction with the ground spinning so.

"Here is Tialyn's flat," Cladeth said, motioning into the tree I called home. Legolas nodded.

"I will take her up and be back down for you in a moment," he winked at her. I would have said something sarcastic if I had had my wits about me. Instead, I groaned in a very unladylike manner as Legolas lifted me up the ladder to my flat. As I could no longer walk by the time we reached the top, Legolas picked me up in his arms effortlessly and carried me to my bedroom, laying me gingerly on my bed and pulling the blankets to my chin. "Sleep well," Legolas said softly. I could not tell if there was more he wished to say; nevertheless, I found myself grabbing his hand as he turned to walk away. His eyes rested on my face and he smiled affectionately. "Will you be alright?"

"Thank you," I whispered. Legolas nodded. "Do you…_love _Cladeth?" I could not help but asking. Legolas laughed.

"I only met her tonight, Tialyn," he said. "But she is a lovely Elf, and I would certainly enjoy spending more time with her."

"She wants to sleep with you tonight," I ventured. Legolas eyed me as if he were warily selecting his next words.

"I know," was all he said before he turned around and left my flat. That was not an answer! He was supposed to say that he would never sleep with anyone like her, or anyone at all for that matter. My head was spinning and I wanted to get up to stop him, to tell him that he should stay and watch over me because I was sick and needed him. I wanted to yell his name and see him rush back like he would have so many times before if I had only given him the chance to be there for me. No, he could not sleep with Cladeth! For some reason, the visions of him climbing on top of or kissing anyone else were revolting, and I cried myself into an uncomfortable sleep.


	24. Three Small Words

Smut. Proceed, but you have been warned.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"He is such a gentle Elf, Tia," I heard Cladeth's dreamy voice saying from my kitchen. "He just walked me to my flat, told me how beautiful I was, and kissed me goodnight." I wanted to groan, but was sure I had not the strength. "Do you want your bread warmed up a bit?" Cladeth asked, peaking her head into my bedroom. I nodded. "Breakfast in bed to get rid of a night of wine," she said as she finally brought a tray of bread and water into my room, placed it on my lap and took a seat at the foot of the bed. Damn her for being a good friend when I wanted to hate her. "We are going for a walk around Imladris today. He has not seen the land and wishes to take a tour with someone who knows its history," she smiled, watching me peck unhappily at my lukewarm bread. They were taking walks around Imladris? This was supposed to be my field of expertise! Legolas was supposed to take walks with _me _and listen to _my _explanation of the land, just as I had listened to him in Mirkwood! Why was everything going so wrong? "I do hope you are planning to get out of bed today," Cladeth continued, standing and walking across my room to open the curtains. Unwelcome sunlight poured through the window and into my dismal little bedroom. I found it within me to groan.

Later that day, I did finally pull myself out of bed. When I stood, I realized I had slept all night in the dress Cladeth had given me the night before. Hoping I had not ruined the most beautiful dress I had ever owned, I slipped it off and hung it in neatly in my wardrobe. I grabbed a towel and climbed down the ladder, hoping no one would come waltzing by in the middle of the day. Most Elves were gathered around the market at noontime, buying and selling their goods. I slipped off to the stream, dropped the towel, and dove in. The cool water was a welcome change to the bathwater of Mirkwood. Now I could bathe in the middle of the day in a gorgeous stream surrounded by green trees, grass, and boulders rather than bathing in a bathroom with no scenery. I swam to the place where the stream widened into a pool of crystalline water fed by a small, eight-foot tall waterfall that made pleasant splashing noises as it met the water pool below. I stood and walked under the waterfall, closing my eyes and letting the pressure of the water wash away the uneasiness of the previous night.

I was just beginning to get comfortable under the waterfall when I heard a gasp. I opened my eyes to see a drenched, naked Legolas standing behind the waterfall in the cave it formed. The breath caught in my throat as I noticed the beauty of his body gleaming with water droplets, some of them rolling down to his waist from the tips of his golden locks. The rest of his body from the waist down was beneath the water, and I was unable to see—did I say that like I wanted to see?—anything extremely inappropriate. When my eyes had finally stopped wandering Legolas' gorgeous pectorals, his muscular arms, and his thin yet toned stomach, they traveled back to his face. In that moment I realized I was also completely naked, and his eyes were transfixed on a place that was certainly not my face or neck. He had never seen me _this _naked before—sure I had worn some pretty revealing dresses, but to see my breasts completely? That was usually a treat for whoever got that far with me. I crossed my arms over my breasts hastily, but he had already seen. I could tell that if his crotch were visible, I would be giggling right about now. He licked his lips lustfully.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, hoping I sounded angrier than I was.

"I should ask you the same question," Legolas said, adding a bit of cheek to his voice.

"I am bathing, thank you very much!" I exclaimed.

"As am I, and you are hogging the waterfall," Legolas said, pushing me gently out of the way and taking his place under the pouring water. I allowed myself only a few moments pleasure of watching the water roll alluringly down his body before speaking again.

"I thought you had a date with Cladeth today," I said too distastefully.

"We have already had it," Legolas said, running his hands through his hair and keeping his eyes closed.

"How did that go?" If I sounded completely uninterested, Legolas did not seem to notice.

"The date went very well, actually," Legolas said, still running his hands through his hair. Staring at his soaking body getting beaten softly by a beautiful waterfall was too much for me to handle, and I felt a slight tingling in my groin. I tried to push it out of thought, but the only thing I could envision was jumping on him underneath that waterfall and wrapping my legs around his soaking body. I took a deep breath as Legolas continued. "Cladeth is so beautiful and captivating," Legolas said all too convincingly.

"Right," I nearly laughed at the suggestion in my head that Legolas could be falling for someone else.

"I might be falling for her." _What_?

"_What_?"

"I know it is soon," Legolas said, finally opening his eyes and stepping out from underneath the waterfall. I realized again that his eyes did not make contact with my body, "but she is one-of-a-kind."

"Legolas, this is ridiculous. You do not even know her." Look at me, damn you!

"From what I know, I would not mind spending a very long time with her," he said, splashing water idly on his torso and keeping his eyes down. Well fuck that, I would not have him keep his eyes off me any longer. I removed my arms from my protective position and splashed him playfully. Legolas' eyes brightened as he ventured a glance at me. They met again with my breasts, and I could tell why I was so enticing at the moment. My breasts had been my favorite part of my body for a very long time. They were voluptuous but not too big, and my nipples a perfect pink and a perfect size, and, at the moment, hard enough to cut metal. Legolas drank it all in before grinning again and splashing me back.

"Hey!" I interjected, splashing him again.

"Never mess with the Prince," Legolas warned before diving underneath the water. I squealed as I felt a hand grab at my leg and pull it out from under me, forcing my head underwater. I took a deep breath just in time and met Legolas under the clear blue water. With my eyes open I could tell he was staring at the rest of me, which he had never had the chance to see before, and I allowed myself to do the same. Had I expected any less from an archer's body, head to…well, you know! Wow. Shit, shit, do not think on it! I came back up for air as Legolas did, but had the advantage of coming up first and pushed him underwater again mischievously. Had I expected what happened next…well, I guess I still would have pushed him underwater.

After a few seconds of being forced under, I felt two strong hands grab my thighs and wrap my legs forcefully around a toned waist. I felt one finger slide easily inside me and I could not help but throw my head back and gasp as Legolas emerged from the water, one hand occupied and the other wrapped around my back. Ilúvatar, this felt good, but what were we doing? Oh, fuck it, what had I to lose?

Another moment later, two more fingers had slipped inside of me, and Legolas' lips were nibbling at my neck. I had never been a selfish lover, and I grabbed the back of Legolas' head before moaning urgently in his ear. His pace quickened and I was breathing too hard to be playful.

"Tia," Legolas said, pulling his fingers free and squeezing my wrist. "What are we doing?"

"You started it," I breathed heavily as I slid the hand he had a grip on down the middle of his chest to his stomach, finally reaching his incredibly hard, sizeable manhood between my legs. I grabbed the shaft and began pulling up and down gently but confidently as Legolas gasped for air. A few moments later, Legolas grabbed me and threw me up against the bank of the river. I felt a rock dig roughly into my back, but I did not care as his three fingers entered me again. I threw my head back and rested it on the earth behind us as he worked his fingers in and out, slow at first and then faster, then slow again. I kept my hand on his shaft, still rubbing it up and down. "I…I cannot…take it…any…longer…" I breathed. "I want you inside me," I whispered naughtily in his ear. This must have sent him reeling because he picked me up and set me on the bank out of the water, crawling onto the earth as well, straddling me and leaning down so our faces were inches from each other.

"Are you sure?" he asked. I nodded. "First, I need to hear something."

"What?" I asked hurriedly.

"Tell me you love me," he said. I swallowed and looked up at him, feeling once again his breath on my face. Why had I never said those words to him before? It was all so obvious now. There was nothing I disliked about him, nothing that got on my nerves. He was all-around perfect for me, and he treated me like a Princess—not to mention I was seconds away from having the best sex of my life, and I would have said anything at that point to get him to enter me. That does not make what I said next any less true.

"I love you," I said sincerely. Legolas looked me in the eyes for a few seconds before a warm smile spread across his face and he bent down to kiss me. The kiss was just as the day before, luscious and wet, sweet and caring. As much as I enjoyed it, I wanted to get moving, so I bit his lower lip hard and he seemed to understand. The kisses became more urgent and finally we were so out of breath we had to stop kissing. "I meant that, Legolas, I swear I did," I gasped, "and I do not wish to ruin the moment but please, please…I want you inside me now." Ilúvatar, I was nearly begging.

"That would definitely not ruin the moment," he said as he entered me. I moaned loudly with pleasure; Legolas closed his eyes and moaned too. He certainly knew what he was doing, even though this was only his second time. He knew exactly what I wanted and I never even had to crawl on top to climax. After we were done, with Legolas' arms wrapped tightly around me, we fell asleep.


	25. Haste

"Finally," said a voice groggily inside my thoughts. My eyes flickered open and I saw a bemused Cladeth standing over me. Why was my back hurting so badly, and what in Middle-earth was I doing sleeping on the ground outside? It took me a few seconds to realize what had just happened, and I smiled; immediately thereafter, I realized I was naked and lying on the ground, and I sat up quickly to cover myself.

"Cladeth—I…damn," I swore. Legolas had obviously awoken at my movement, and he sat up too. Damn, was I still smiling? And damn again, my best friend liked this Elf and here I was lying naked with him. "Cladeth, I…I…this…we…"

"Oh, shut up, Tia," Cladeth grinned. "Worked, huh?"

"What?" I asked, confused.

"Worked," Legolas answered, grinning from ear to pointed ear. I squinted my eyes at the two of them for a moment before realizing what they must have been talking about.

"You scoundrels!" I said at once, standing to grab the towel I had brought out earlier that was resting nearby. I covered myself before pushing Cladeth forcefully. "You set me up!" Hm, that did not sound angry at all. "And you too!" I frowned at Legolas, who stood and hurriedly put on his leggings and tunic. I should not have been surprised. Legolas courting someone other than me was a bit ridiculous in itself. "I cannot believe this!" I exclaimed more to myself than either of them.

"Does that mean you are unhappy that it happened?" Legolas asked, walking up close to me so he was only a few inches from my face. He stared down at me, searching my eyes with his gorgeous honey browns, a sad pout on his face. I only stood for a bit, watching him watch me until the tension in the air was thick enough to sink an arrow in.

"No," I said, finally and to Legolas' relief. "I love you."

"I love you too, Tialyn," he whispered, pulling me close and planting a sensuous kiss on my lips before exhaling deeply. I could tell he wanted to say more, but Cladeth was standing pleased nearby and what he wanted to say was probably private; instead, Legolas kissed me again and grabbed my hand. "Thank you, Cladeth," he said. "I owe you."

"How about a trip to Mirkwood?" Cladeth asked. "I take payment in fun."

"I am not sure how fun Mirkwood would be at the moment," Legolas replied, his mood changing quickly. "Orcs are hidden around the borders of Mirkwood and nearby areas; a very large band of Orcs, actually," he said, remembering.

"Orcs?" Cladeth asked, surprised. "Where did they come from?" Legolas explained that they may have been a band of dissenters from Sauron's army, and admitted they were stronger than anyone believed at first. "Oh, so that is how Aragorn and you were hurt," she said, indicating the direction of the stab wound in Legolas' leg which was now healing fast and needed no bandage.

"Sorry I never explained," I piped in. "I had forgotten you were not in Mirkwood with us. Everyone there knows." Legolas turned to me again, a look of serenity on his face with a hint of something else I thought I recognized as pure joy. "Why are you looking at me that way?" I broke into a smile, and Legolas returned it.

"You are no longer the Elf who got away," Legolas said teasingly.

"Watch what you say!" I warned. "You may jinx it." Legolas could not stop grinning as the three of us walked in the direction of my flat. Cladeth clambered up the ladder to her own as Legolas followed me up mine. This would turn into a wonderful afternoon.

Dark finally fell and Legolas and I were lying in my bed naked. His hand was busy stroking my face as I drifted in and out of sleep. "Tialyn," he whispered, "I cannot express to you how marvelous this day his been." Despite the seriousness in his voice, I could not help but laugh.

"Legolas, can you hear yourself?" I put on my best serious-Legolas face and mustered up the royalty in my voice. "'I cannot express to you how mahvahlous theess dahy has been.'" I howled with laughter.

"I am serious, Tialyn!" he said, but he smiled too before grabbing my pillow and hitting me on the head with it, which only brought on more playful bedroom romping; that is, until we heard an uncomfortable 'ahem' from outside. I stood hurriedly and threw on my robe, sticking my head out of the door to see who was interrupting all my fun.

"Miss Tialyn," the same regal soldier from before said, "I am told Legolas is here." This was a statement rather than a question. I nodded. "An urgent message for him has arrived." He climbed up, handed me the letter, and climbed back down, stalking away.

"An urgent message," I said at Legolas' questioning gaze as I walked back into my bedroom. I handed the letter to him, which he unfolded and read intently.

"Ilúvatar," he swore. "I have to go."

"Now?" I asked incredulously.

"Now." He stood and dressed himself as he headed toward the door. As if he had forgotten something very important, he spun around and ran back to me. "I love you," he said, kissing me quickly and hurrying away again.

"Wait!" I implored him, trailing on his heels. "Take me with you." The look of sincerity in my eye did not help.

"You are safe here for now, Tialyn," Legolas said, pulling me close. "I just got you and I do not want you hurt." He leaned in to kiss me again before jumping out of my door, not bothering with the ladder.

"But where are you going?" I called after him, not troubling myself with hiding the disappointment in my voice.

"Mirkwood!" Legolas yelled back before disappearing into the dark woods.

"I love you too," I murmured dismally, returning to my room to see the letter thrown on the floor as if the contents were unimportant. I picked it up and read it fixedly.

Son,

The Orcs are destroying our lands. We need you. Bring Aragorn if he is healed enough. Bring everyone in Imladris willing to fight. We have a war on our hands.

Love, Your Father


	26. Too Dangerous

Damn. Well, he was crazy if he thought I was not coming with him back to Mirkwood. I grabbed a few of my belongings and stuffed them into a bag. I ran to Cladeth's flat and told her what happened; she opted to go with me, and I agreed. She packed a few things too and we hurried to Lord Elrond's quarters.

"Lord Elrond," I said, bowing hastily. "We need two horses."

"For what reason, may I ask?" Elrond said from a comfortable-looking chair in which he was reading a book. Did this Elf ever sleep?

"We have to go to Mirkwood," I said.

"I am afraid that is far too dangerous," Elrond replied, returning to the book in his hands.

"But Lord--" I began, but he cut me off with a wave of his hand.

"It is out of the question," he said. "Please go back to your homes and go to bed," and with that, an ominous-looking escort lead us out.

"We _have _to go," I insisted when the escort left us.

"Elrond says it's too dangerous," Cladeth said uneasily. "Maybe it is. You heard Legolas say there were Orcs patrolling the borders. How would we ever make it through?"

"What if he gets hurt?" I yelled. "What if he needs me?"

"What could you do to help?" she retorted.

"I could _be _there for him, and I will not stay behind." With that, I turned the direction of the stables and set off. Cladeth hurried behind me with a conceding look on her face. She said nothing as I led the way. When we got near, I put one finger over my lips to indicate silence. She nodded and we tiptoed to the front of the stables. A sullen sentry sat on an uncomfortable-looking chair on the right side of the stables. I held my breath and stopped until I realized he was sleeping. I motioned for her to follow me, and we hurried to the left side of the stables. The doors holding the horses in were wooden and creaky, but we had no other choice. I cautiously opened the gate to the horse in the leftmost stall. The horse's name was Nimelen. He was a gorgeous white with a grey tail and brown eyes. He came out reluctantly as if he knew something was wrong, but he came out nevertheless. Next, I opened the door to the horse next to Nimelen's stall. This horse was Firdrim, a black horse with a big white spot between his eyes. The door creaked a little and I stopped, my eyes intently surveying the sentry. He was obviously in a deep sleep, and Firdrim came out easily, willing to be ridden.

Cladeth and I led our horses quietly until we reached a thicket in the woods too far away to be seen or heard. We gently climbed onto our horses and rode them Southeast. I hoped I had brought enough provisions for our ride to Mirkwood; I had stuck a knife in my shoe and had told Cladeth to do the same, just in case, but I assured her we would never need to use them.

I was wrong.


	27. A Crown of Flames

On the third day of our journey to Mirkwood, Cladeth was already tired of our horses.

"Would you stop complaining? You are acting like you're only 100 years old," I joked.

"But these horses smell, and so do I!" she exclaimed. I rolled my eyes.

"We're almost there," I assured her.

A while later, I spotted something on the horizon. I squinted to get a better look; when I realized what my Elf eyes had seen, I wished my vision had not been so sharp.

Reaching its way high above the trees was a crown of yellow and orange. A desperate crackling reached my ears as we moved closer. The trees were on fire.

"What do we do?" Cladeth asked, panicked.

"We have to find Legolas," I said, urging Nimelen forward while wondering exactly what good that would do. Legolas was surely near the fire already, but I had to know he was alright. Nimelen was reluctant to go forward, and reared back when I tried to force him. Instead, I dismounted and began running toward the fire. Cladeth followed suit, jumping off Firdrim and chasing after me.

"This is really dangerous!" Cladeth called after me. I ignored her and kept running. I was running so fast the trees around me were a blur and I could hear nothing and see nothing except the crown of golden flames growing ever closer. I would have kept running if I had not run straight into something so sturdy I could not break through. I fell backwards onto the ground, hitting my head on the root of a tree beneath me. The sky above was lit with flames and I could smell the burning trees for only a few seconds before my vision became skewed and blackened and my hearing failed. I had been rendered unconscious.


	28. Prisoners

Groggily, my eyelids fluttered open. I was lying on a cold, damp, hard floor. The ceiling above me was dark stone that leaked a dark green liquid from the cracks. I turned my head to the left. The wall left of me and only inches from my face was the same dark stone, dripping with the strange green liquid. _I must be dreaming_, I thought immediately, stretching my arms in front of me and closing my eyes. My right wrist felt immediately heavy and sore. I opened my eyes to see a metal, rusty cuff around my wrist connected to a rusty metal chain which reached behind me. I sat up immediately, gasping and turning to my right where a stone wall met the chain. There was almost no light and I could not see past the two walls beside me and the ceiling, but I gathered that I was in the corner of a very dark, drippy room connected to the wall by a rusty chain. Shit. I dropped my arms to the floor, making a satisfying clank on the ground where the chain hit. Immediately I heard an unfamiliar groan.

"Who's there?" I asked trying to hide the fear in my voice.

"A newcomer?" the voice said in Elvish. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"I am Tialyn," I said, straining my eyes to see the other Elf in the room.

"I am Reithar," he replied. I heard another clank.

"Where are we?" I asked, barely making out a shape against the opposite wall.

"In a dungeon, I suppose," he replied calmly. I furrowed my brow.

"Who has us here?"

"Orcs."

"_Orcs_?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" he asked.

"You mean besides waking up in this shithole?" He laughed. "I was running toward a fire," I began slowly, trying to recall my latest memory. "And I ran into something and…that's all."

"Where was the fire?"

"On the outskirts of Mirkwood."

"Why were you on the outskirts of Mirkwood?" I explained that I had been traveling to Mirkwood from Imladris on my way to see the Prince. At the mention of Legolas, Reithar snorted.

"Why were you going to see Legolas?"

"Do you talk only in questions?" I replied. He laughed. "Because I love him." The statement surprised even me.

"I would ask why, but that would only be another question," he said. It was my turn to interrogate, and I insisted he tell me exactly where he came from. "I am also from Mirkwood. I am in their infantry, Prince Legolas' division." I smiled at the mentioned of Legolas' name. "He is rather a tight ass, you must admit," he said softly. "But then again, a female in love--" he stopped as if that were the beginning of a well-known proverb. "Anyway, I have only been here two days. Good thing I had a bit of food on me or I would have starved by now." Suddenly I became worried.

"They don't give you food?"

"Not so far. I had a bit on me when they caught me, but this was before any fire. The last thing I remember is Legolas barking off orders as his arrows whizzed past my head," he said. We both fell silent; I had taken to memories of the night Legolas had left. A bit of banging, clanking, and a cry of joy brought me back to Middle-earth. Suddenly I saw a tall figure walking toward me. My eyes adjusted to him and I realized this must have been Reithar. He was about Legolas' height with long, dark hair and sharp, green eyes. He wore what I constantly saw Legolas wearing: a green tunic and leggings complete with brown belt and boots. He was quite lovely, in fact, right down to the rusty cuff around his left wrist.

"Should have chained my right," Reithar said jovially, noticing my eyes on his cuff. Without questioning his method of escape, I smiled, a bit dizzy from the lack of information. I could only hope Reithar was telling the truth; of course, he did have a cuff around his wrist, so he could not have been my attacker whether or not that made sense. But why had the Orcs captured us and kept us alive? It was thoughtful and thought-provoking at the same time, kind but perplexing. There must have been a reason, unless they enjoy the thought of two Elves starving to death inside a room made of stone. Was Legolas alright, and where was Cladeth? Had they caught her too? And how in Ilúvatar did Reithar cut his chain, anyway? And why did I feel a rushing sensation in my nether regions when I looked at him? Damn, was he that sexy? I guess what I thought was intriguing was the mystery and the way he looked at me. While I thought on the Orcs' reasoning, how we would escape from this dungeon, and my feelings for Legolas and curious lust over Reithar at the same time, I did not notice Reithar crouched next to me, chain in both hands, pulling forcefully as if trying to break the chain apart. It would never work.

Well, so I thought.

Moments later, my chain was on the floor and the cuff on my right wrist, while still heavy, was not binding. A few links from the chain still hung to the cuff but I was able to move about. We set to the task of finding a way out.

"I found the door," I said, banging my fist on the dark, disgusting wall and hearing hollow sounds behind it. The lack of light did not allow the ability to see cracks in the wall to indicate a door, but it must have been there. Reithar shoved me out of the way a little too forcefully (need I mention I did not mind? Those hands were definitely archer's hands) and stood a few feet from the door, mustering strength and running at it. The door creaked under the force, but not enough to open it. I watched in awe as Reithar slammed his muscular body against the door over and over; he switched sides every time, giving an equal amount of bruising to either shoulder. After five or six tries, Reithar backed up even further and ran at the door at full speed. The door swung open as Reithar fell powerfully to the ground. He immediately jumped up and looked around him, alarm in his eyes. Seeing nothing, he motioned for me to exit the room. I obeyed.

The hallway in which we were now standing was the same stone of the dungeon we had been in. There were twenty or so more doors just like ours down either side, locks on them. Reithar strode confidently to our right and down the hallway. I followed reluctantly behind.

"Shouldn't we open the other--"

"Shh!" Reithar whispered urgently. "We need to get out now and send help later," he said, to which I was about to object until he continued, annoyance in his voice, "We are no help to anyone if we get caught again." I closed my mouth firmly and followed him down the hallway. At the end of the hallway he took another right into another hallway, which was the same except a bit wider.

"Favor your right, much?" I whispered, catching up to him so we walked side-by-side. He smiled, glancing down at me for a second before hurrying ahead again and motioning me to move faster. Once again, I obeyed. I never had this ease at obeying orders, especially not from males. This could be a bad sign. We hurried down that hallway and reached the double doors at the end. Since there were no windows, only hanging light fixtures, in the hallway, Reithar shrugged and pushed the doors open.

Bad idea.


	29. Whiplash

On the other side of the double doors stood three Orcs, armed and waiting. Immediately, they grabbed us and carried us back down the hallway. Reithar was kicking and trying to punch the Orcs, but I had given up right away and let them drag me soundlessly, as I knew I had not the strength to fend them off. I only hoped they would put us back in an easily escapable room, but how stupid could they really be?

Instead of taking a left and dragging us down our first hallway, they kept dragging us down the hallway with the double doors at the end (except going the opposite way, of course). This time, they pulled us into another strange room. This room was the same stone as the first, but it included a small window in the corner of the room.

"Don't bother escaping again," one of the Orcs growled at us. He was shorter than I and what hair he had was dark and stringy. His eyes were big and black, his skin an unpleasant brown, his teeth an unhealthy yellow. He snarled before walking out of the room, the door to which he left open.

"Wonderful idea," I said after a while, rolling my eyes at Reithar. He was currently bouncing around in his chair trying to break the rope.

"Where in Ilúvatar did they get Elven rope?" he wondered aloud. I moved my wrists around a bit, feeling the soft but firm grip of the grey rope tying them together behind me. Definitely Elven-made.

"It would have been better if we had freed everyone," I spat. "We could have had them outnumbered."

"Oh yes, a herd of helpless, starving Elves and Men and Ilúvatar only knows what else against three strong, armed Orcs. An army of untrained idiots," Reithar retorted angrily. Despite the aggravation in his voice, I was smiling. Damn, he was sexy when he was mad.

"Doesn't look like there is any getting out of this one, huh?" I asked sheepishly. Reithar stopped bouncing around in his chair to scowl at me before starting again at a useless attempt to escape. A few moments later, a dark figure moved into the doorway. It could not have been. I blinked a few times before accepting this vision as even a hallucination, much less as a real creature.

"Where is King Thranduil?" hissed the tall creature before us. I noticed with disgust his dark grey skin that oozed black liquid. His voice was scratchy and deep. His nose was Man-like and his teeth sharp.

"How would we know?" Reithar challenged. The creature laughed. I blinked again. No. No, please go away. Please do not exist. Please.

"You are both Elves of Mirkwood," he said, walking toward Reithar.

"_She _is not; leave her _out _of this," Reithar demanded. If I had not been so baffled by the tall, ugly creature before us, I would have felt adoration for the protection Reithar had just shown.

"She seemed in quite a hurry to _reach _Mirkwood," he said. No. No.

"_Uruk-hai_," I whispered under my breath, not believing my own words.

"What?" he said, turning his disgusting head toward me. His small, beady eyes bore into me. I noticed his long, black hair was pulled into a ponytail.

"It cannot be," I whispered again, to myself rather than to him.

"Yes it can," he said, coming toward me threateningly. "Talk." It was a command. He pulled a whip from behind him and raised it with his long, large dark arms.

"_No_!" Reithar yelled, but it was too late. The whip landed across my chest. The searing pain was too much. Instead of screaming, I coughed and squeezed my eyes shut. The whip felt like a thousand needles flying into my skin. My chin dropped, touching the wound that lay from collarbone to collarbone just above my breasts. The pain of my chin touching the gash was excruciating; my face became flushed and I opened my mouth to scream, but all my throat would allow was a sob of anguish. I was in so much pain that the world around me spun and I felt like puking. I raised my head slightly to stop the pressure of my chin on the cut, but my head was too heavy and my chin fell heavily on the wound again. Consciousness fled.


	30. The Great Escape Plan

When I awoke, I immediately felt pain. My breathing was labored like I had inhaled too many chemicals in the air. I looked to my left and saw Reithar slumped against his chair, his chin down. He had a few cuts in the cloth that covered his chest, and blood had crusted around those openings. I looked around and saw that no one was in the room with us. Breathing hard, I tried to remember what had happened and came to the shocking realization that I had just been tortured by an Uruk-hai. Ignoring the pain, I began thinking of any possible way out of the situation. The Uruk-hai had wanted to know where King Thranduil was. Why would he be in any particular place? Was he not in the castle? Was he in hiding? Why was it so important the Uruk-hai find the King, and what could Thranduil possibly do for them? What was their goal? Had Reithar given away King Thranduil's location? Was Legolas alright? Where was Cladeth? Had the knife in her shoe helped her?

I gasped. The knife. I had one in my shoe too. I felt so stupid for forgetting about it. The only thing that was helpful against Elven rope was an Elven knife, but how to get to it? My legs were not tied together, so I lifted my right leg, the one with the knife in the shoe, as high as I could. I felt the knife slip a little, and I wriggled my foot around a bit to help it out. A few moments later, the knife slipped out and fell to the floor at my right with a clank. Immediately feeling as if that had been a bad idea, I hurried to come up with a plan to reach the knife now that it was on the floor. If the Uruk came back and saw it before I got to it, our last hope would be destroyed. I needed to get that knife in one of my hands.

Fall. Falling was the only option. I used my feet to turn my chair, which made a horrible scraping noise against the stone floor. I cringed but kept going until the knife was directly behind my chair and I was facing Reithar's slumped body. I hoped he was alright, but I did not have time to dwell on it. I took a deep breath, knowing that every action I took after the following one would have to be swift. Instead of one deep breath, I took many, hoping the door to the room we were in was unlocked. A second later, I began to execute my plan. I pushed with my feet on the floor hard, sending my chair flying backwards. The weight of the chair and my body on my arms was almost too agonizing, but I did not scream or even groan. The chair and I falling to the floor was loud enough. I ignored the great bruises on my arms and began carefully moving my hand around the floor, searching for the knife. Moving my hand only proved more unbearable, but I could not let myself cry. A sob caught in my throat as I tried to ignore the pain, which was almost as bad as the wound I had received earlier. My entire hand would not move; only my fingers moved slowly and painfully around. When I did not find the knife immediately, I became more frantic and forced my whole hand to move. The other began moving too, fingers flailing. I touched something cold with my right index finger. The knife. I sighed in relief—not too loudly—as I pushed my muscles to grab the knife. This was going to be more difficult than I had originally planned.

With the knife in hand, I began sawing at the first bit of rope I found. Having to move my wrists to saw was almost intolerably painful, but I knew I had to continue. Hopefully the noise of my chair hitting the ground had gone unnoticed. I continued to saw until finally the rope loosened. I tried to pull either hand free, but to no avail, so I found another bit of rope and began sawing again. I sawed through it more easily than I had the first, and pulled my arms in either direction. My left arm came free but I could not pull it out from under the chair. I had to keep sawing. Eventually I sawed my right hand free too and with both hands pushed my body to the right. I rolled the chair over my right wrist as I held back a scream of anguish. The chair and I were both on our right sides, and I pulled my left hand from behind the chair, using it to push my body off the floor and free my right hand. With both hands free, I untangled myself from the rope that lay across my torso. I took another deep breath, soothingly petting both of my bruised arms and ignoring the searing pain in my chest. I had to free Reithar.

I stood up, hurried to his chair, and began cutting his ropes. I had his hands free in no time (despite the agonizing pain in both my arms) and he nearly fell forward when I freed him from his binds. I caught him (painfully) and pushed him back against the chair.

"Reithar," I whispered urgently, surveying the damage done to him. He had received three lashings, one across his chest and the other two across his stomach. He had not lost too much blood, but the pain was enough to knock someone out. I hit his face lightly. "_Reithar_," I said again, a little more loudly. I shook his shoulders, but he would not wake up. I did _not _have time for this. I took matters into my own hands (or rather, on my own shoulders), hoisting him out of the chair (fucking Ilúvatar, this hurt) and putting one of his arms over my shoulders. I rushed to the door and tried the handle, a wild hopein my head.I felt no satisfaction. I had come to the one part of my plan I could not control.The one thing I could not get around.The door was locked.


	31. Fangorn Forest

At that moment I knew I had to wake Reithar up, no matter how long it took. I set him back down on his chair and lifted his head with my hands. I pleaded with him for a while, both in my head and out loud. If we did not get out, I would never know if Legolas was alright. I kept slapping Reithar's face and shaking him to no avail. I was about to give up when I hit him one last time and his eyes fluttered open. He cringed in pain, but I did not notice. I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He said nothing but slowly wrapped his arms around me too, engulfing me in his grip. I was crying, but not for any particular reason. I was just so happy and sad and afraid and hurt at the same time that I did not know what to do with myself.

"Shh," Reithar said. This was the second time he had urged me to quiet down, but this time was more soothing. "It is alright," he said. I broke our embrace. "We have to get out of here." I nodded and Reithar stood, wincing as he did so.

"The door is locked," I whispered as quietly as possible. He nodded.

"We have one chance, and only one." I knew what he meant. He would have to throw himself hard enough against the door to open it, and we would have to escape before a guard heard us and we were captured again. We both knew that if we were captured again, we might be killed. Wordlessly, I picked up the knife and handed it to him. A look of understanding swept over his face. This was how I did it. He grabbed the knife thankfully and pocketed it. "We must both run at the door." Without questioning, I nodded in agreement. He took my hand and we walked backwards six steps from the door. He squeezed my hand as if to say everything was alright. I nodded, looking at him. He nodded back, dropping my hand and holding up three fingers. The three fingers went to two, and then one. When the one finger disappeared inside his fist, we ran. I ran as fast as I could and hurled myself so hard at the door that I may have dislocated my shoulder, but I had gotten used to disregarding the pain and instead of screaming, I fell to the ground next to Reithar. I knew what this meant, too. The door had given.

Reithar stood up quickly and pulled me up with him, running at full speed the direction we had come from. We knew from our window in our cell that it was dark outside; we also understood that this was to our advantage, and if we wanted to escape, now was the best time anyway.

We reached the double doors at the end of the hallway. As far as we knew, there was no other exit. We looked at each other briefly before pushing open the doors. Thankfully, the doors were silent and the guards were fast asleep. I noticed with disgust that their snores were just the kind of snores Orcs would have; full of mucus and loud. Reithar had not stopped to notice, and had taken off faster than Shadowfax toward the woods in front of the tunnel of passageways in which we were being held. Following suit, I sprinted after him, taking care to make no noise with my feet as I padded down the few stone stairs. Running toward the dark forest ahead, it occurred to me that I had no idea where we were. We could be halfway to Far Harad by now, but I guessed that at the time, running into the forest was the only idea. To get an inkling of where I had been, I turned my head as I ran. What I saw shocked me.

Behind me, lit by the moon, stood a tall, decrepit statue of a man with a crown on his head. Behind the statue were only grasslands. We could have been a number of places, but owing to the air of the forest we had just entered, I could guess where we were. The trees around me creaked and swayed; they were whispering amongst themselves, but I was too panicked and hurried to listen to them. We were in Fangorn Forest.

I tripped over countless roots in the dark, following the sound of Reithar's footsteps. When we had run at least two miles into the Forest, we stopped. Reithar collapsed, his back against a tree. I sat down next to him, panting and gasping for breath. He gripped his stomach in pain.

"Are you alright?" I asked softly when I had caught my breath.

"You mean aside from the excruciating pain?" I admired his ability to have sarcasm in a situation like this. "Great," he added, smiling at me.

"Good," I agreed, standing up again.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"North," I said, pointing ahead. He furrowed his brow at me.

"Are you not tired?"

"I have to get back to Mirkwood," I insisted. "There are too many things I need to know, too many people may have been lost…" my though trailed off, but my mind brought me back to a very important question. "Did you tell them where Thranduil is?" Reithar raised one eyebrow, clearly shocked at the informality of the reference to the King of Mirkwood. I ignored the surprised look on his face. "_Did _you?" I repeated, more urgently this time.

"What if I did?" Reithar asked after a moment. My breath caught in my throat and my entire body tingled. "He was _torturing _me, Tialyn," he said almost angrily. He had no room to be angry.

"Are you serious? _You told him_?" I was screaming.

"No, Ilúvatar, quiet down," Reithar insisted, motioning with his hands for me to sit back down. "I did not tell him." I nearly fainted with relief.

"Why did you trick me into thinking you did?" I asked, frantic but obeying his command at the same time. I sat next to him.

"I never said I told him," Reithar explained. "But I would have had he kept whipping me." I wanted to be angry, to tell him that betrayal is worse than all the torture in the world and that I would have died to keep Thranduil safe, but I remembered that he was not in love with Thranduil's son and that I had not known where Thranduil was to begin with, so I would have died to protect nothing. Instead of lecturing him on what he should have done, I accepted the fact that, as it were, he had not been tortured more and therefore had not given away Thranduil's location.

"Where is he?" I wondered aloud.

"Ah, you expect me to tell you without a whip in your hand?" he grinned. I smiled back. "He has traveled east and is in hiding near the Iron Mountains, along the River Carnen. He is safe there, for none have lived near there for a very long time, and none are around to give away his location." I exhaled. "I have to get some sleep," he said finally. I nodded submission and watched Reithar lie down and curl up next to the tree. I listened for the trees whisper for a while before lying down next to him and falling asleep.


	32. A Disheveled Wood

I awoke to a strong arm around me. For a fleeting moment, I imagined it was Legolas and the two of us were lying in a comfortable bed under silk, Elven sheets, and we were naked. As I opened my eyes the vision of Legolas' face, lit by some mysterious, soft light, with his honey brown eyes smiling down upon me, faded. What took its place was quite less satisfying: an Elf I hardly knew, his arm thrown across me as we lay on the floor of a rather musty-scented forest, his foreign breath on my face. I sat up immediately, trying to brush off the feeling of total insecurity. As sexy as this Elf was, I only wanted Legolas.

"Huhn?" Reithar mumbled, opening his eyes. What he saw must have startled him too (was my hair that bad?), for he sat up almost as quickly as I had, moving quite a bit further away. "Sorry," he said hastily. I nodded, standing up and dusting off my clothes. Reithar did the same.

In thoughtful silence, the two of us began again our journey back to Mirkwood. My fantasies lingered on Legolas longer than they ever had, and by the time I was finished daydreaming, night had fallen again.

"Another night in this forest," I said wearily.

"It will not be long until we reach the end of the forest, and that is when we need to worry," Reithar replied, looking around every time he heard a tree groan. "We will not have the cover of the trees or the protection of the Ents outside of this forest. We should come out near the Field of Celebrant."

"Have a map in your head?" I asked. He smiled.

"I know these lands well," he responded without explanation. "From the Field of Celebrant, we will cross the Anduin and enter at the very southernmost tip of Mirkwood. The Orcs are patrolling the western borders; that I know for sure. Our path will be through Mirkwood to the eastern side through the East Bight and up the eastern side until we reach the castle," he explained. "Six more days." I sighed unhappily. Six days? So much could happen in those six days. What if Legolas was hurt? What if he needed me? Apparently, Reithar could see the alarm in my eyes because he said, "If we hurry, we can make it in five." He paused before he said, "I am quite sure he is fine." He turned so I could not see the look on his face and lay down on the uncomfortable ground. I sighed before doing the same.

On the third day, we had traveled across the East Bight unhindered. It seemed no Orcs were patrolling the Eastern border of Mirkwood (yet), so we continued.

On the fifth day we reached the castle. When it came into sight, I sprinted forward, leaving Reithar to hurry behind. I would find out later that there was much I did not notice as I ran into the castle. At that moment, however, I was only thinking of one thing: Legolas. I burst through the double doors of the castle and immediately encountered Nimaroel. I was so thankful to see a familiar face that I leapt into her arms. She pulled away, stunned. I wanted to ask her about Legolas, but upon a double take, I realized there was something very wrong.

Her usually sharp brown eyes had dulled to an almost unrecognizable color. The whites of her eyes were red as if she had been crying. Her long, blonde hair which was usually loose and hanging to her waist was pulled into a messy bun behind her head. The normal pale golden color of it had diminished; her hair was tangled and coarse, and looked as if it had not been washed in days. Her clothes were dirt-ridden and disgusting, and one whiff of her smell sent my head spinning. Chills ran down my back. Nimaroel looking as disheveled as she was could only mean one thing. I was holding onto her wrists, searching her eyes for a silent nod, but her eyes returned no favors. Her stare was blank, as if she did not recognize me. I was thankful for that moment, because I did not want to hear the news. I was too afraid.

"Nimaroel," I whispered after a while. "It is me, Tialyn." A glimmer crept into her eyes, as if the mention of my name was the only thing she recognized in the world. I watched as her facial expression changed from hopeless to faithful.

"Tialyn!" she exclaimed as happily as she could, throwing her arms around me. I could almost not stand the stench that came from her. I held my breath until she let me go. "I am so glad you are here." She seemed delusional, like she had not heard the words that came from her mouth. Her state of being was completely disjointed.

After another moment of staring at Nimaroel, I heard footsteps behind me and identified them as Reithar's without turning around. Nimaroel must have seen him, because she gasped. To my surprise, she reached behind her and pulled out a dull knife. "You cannot take her!" she screamed, thrusting the knife toward Reithar's face. I turned to him, horrified, watching Nimaroel move the tip of the sword closer to his neck.

"Nimaroel," I said hurriedly, putting one hand on her sword and lowering it for her. "This is a friend of mine; he will not hurt you." I made my voice as soothing as possible. She was shaking, but she let the sword fall to the floor. She stood there for another awkward moment before I saw her eyes brim with tears.

"Tialyn, everything is awful," she cried, throwing herself into my arms again. I patted her on the back uncomfortably, not really wanting to coax out any information but knowing I needed to know. I held back my own tears. Reithar stood beside us, eyes wide.

"Is Legolas alright?" I asked quietly. Nimaroel sobbed.

"He—he was taken—by—by—" The words caught in her throat and she sobbed again.

"By whom, Nima? Orcs?" She wailed and nodded. "How long ago?"

"Four days," she managed to say before wailing again. I was so grateful I wanted to hug her. The Orcs had captured him, probably because they knew he would know where Thranduil was hiding, but this meant they were keeping him alive. The one Elf whom they knew without a doubt would know the location of his father. They would not dare kill him if they wanted to know Thranduil's whereabouts so badly. I did not concern myself with why the Orcs so badly needed Thranduil. That was an entirely different concern. Now, I had to find Legolas.


	33. Familiar Faces

"I will find him," I assured Nimaroel before immediately taking her leave and running back toward the door. Reithar hurried after me. I ignored Nimaroel's cries, and heard her fall to the floor before the doors shut behind us.

Before running in the general direction of the only Orc prison I knew, I was forced to stop. My breath caught in my throat as I looked around. The trees were hurting; I could feel it in my very arms and legs, in my heart. They were crying. I felt the sorrow before I could see it. When my body had adjusted to the pain that had swept over me, my eyes searched the land. All around me, trees were burnt to the ground. Other trees still stood, leaning over, whispering words of comfort to their friends. A lone tear escaped my eye and fell down my face before I wiped the trail away with my sleeve. I swallowed hard, trying not to remember the time Legolas and I had spent walking around the forest, talking to the trees. They would heal, but not without help, and the help they required was in dire need of being found. I took a deep breath and another look around before lowering my head to the ground, wiping the image from my memory, and walking.

"Where exactly do you intend on going?" Reithar asked aloud after a few silent moments of following me. "You have no idea where they are keeping Legolas."

"Probably in the same place we were held," I said, looking around for a guard to tell me where the stables were.

"Maybe so, but we cannot go back there on our own. They will surely capture us," Reithar insisted, grabbing my arm to stop me from running.

"It is a good thing, then," a familiar voice to my right said, "that I know where he is being held, and I have friends to help us." I could not help but smile freely. I turned and saw Aragorn standing amongst those I had only heard of in stories, and a few I had seen before. I felt an odd sense of security in their smiling faces. It was almost as if they were at this moment untouched by their surroundings, unmoved by war.

Next to Aragorn stood a Man of about Aragorn's stature. He was as scruffy as Aragorn, too, his beard an unkempt brown and his hair a lighter shade. He wore the armor of a Horse-lord. "Tialyn, this is Éomer, son of Éomund, King of Rohan," Aragorn said. I bowed my head toward Éomer.

My eyes traveled to Aragorn's other side, and down a few feet. Standing with his hands upon his ax was a Dwarf with long, dark hair and smiling eyes. To my surprise, he bowed his head toward me. "And this is Gimli, son of Glóin." I bowed my head to him in return.

"Very pleased to be in the presence of an Elf," Gimli said in his gruff voice. I grinned. I knew I would like him.

My eyes traveled to Gimli's side, where they met a tall, cloaked figure in white, his white beard falling down his front. "You have met Gandalf the White," Aragorn said. I nodded, smiling at Gandalf.

Next to Gandalf, and the last of their company, stood another Man whose countenance was softer than that of Aragorn or Éomer. His soft blue eyes shined and his smile was gentle. His brown hair was the length of Aragorn's, yet softer. He had no facial hair save what stubble was left behind. He wore the clothes of Gondor. "And this is Faramir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor, Prince of Ithilien and Lord of Emyn Arnen." I bowed my head to him too, a bit hurriedly, and rushed to Aragorn, throwing my arms around him (gently).

"I am so glad you have come!" I said into Aragorn's neck, more to everyone than just him. Aragorn hugged me in return and let me go quickly, raising one eyebrow at the Elf behind me. I had nearly forgotten him. "Oh, this is Reithar," I introduced him awkwardly, realizing I knew nothing about him except his name and that he lived in Mirkwood and served under Legolas. Reithar stood behind us, clearly baffled but remembering his manners nonetheless and bowing to the crowd in general. "So you know where Legolas is?" I asked Aragorn. Gimli snorted.

"That lad is always getting himself into trouble," he said jokingly. I grinned in spite of myself. Aragorn shot him a quieting glance, and I was able to hold in a giggle.

"In West Emnet, just south of Fangorn Forest," Aragorn said.

"That is where they were keeping us," Reithar replied, finally contributing.

"I cannot believe you escaped," Aragorn muttered, looking down at my wrists with a concerned look on his face. I waved him away.

"We got out, but we need to get Legolas," I said, "before the Uruk-hai torture him to death."

"Uruk-hai?" Éomer asked incredulously. "That makes no sense," he said under his breath, "they are not smaller creatures…" His voice trailed off, and I looked at him quizzically. Aragorn cleared his throat.

"It is unfortunate that they are being made," Aragorn agreed, "they are but tools."

"What makes you think they are the tools?" I asked. Aragorn swallowed without answering. "Would not the Uruk-hai be considered a higher ranking than Orcs?"

"Not if there are only few," Gandalf piped in.

"I do not understand," I said slowly. Orcs breeding Uruk-hai to do their bidding? And what had Éomer said of smaller creatures?

"There is no time now," Aragorn interrupted. "We must find Legolas and the rest of the soldiers." I had not realized how empty the castle was until I understood that the soldiers were being held too. I nodded.

Gandalf stepped forward to lead the way. I looked at him questioningly. "Got horses?"


	34. Inside the Statue at West Emnet

The fourth day of our quest South came to a dreary close. The clouds were threatening to open and unleash a torrent of rainfall upon our heads. We had abandoned our horses earlier that day in hopes of traveling quietly. We stood on the edge of Fangorn Forest, looking out at the grasslands before us, waiting for the cover of night.

"They kept us in there," I whispered, indicating the statue that hung over the land, threatening to fall.

"I know," Aragorn whispered back.

"How did you know where we were being kept?"

"I tracked the Orcs Southwest after they captured Legolas. I was alone and could not have saved him, or else I would have." I nodded. Of course he would have. I was just glad he had the brains to first find backup. We stood behind the trees and watched the clouds begin to break open. A light drizzle fell on us, chilling me to the bone. The ambush would be easier, of course, with the noise of the rain falling and the better disguise.

"It is time," Gandalf whispered after the rain had fallen for a while. I inhaled deeply and watched my breath linger before my mouth as I let the breath escape my lips. I was freezing, but I disregarded my discomfort. Aragorn led the way, crouching among the grass as he moved forward. The rest of us followed suit.

In no time, we had reached the statue. Aragorn gestured for Gandalf, Reithar, and me to wait where we were while the rest of them took out the guards. I wanted to protest, but Gandalf grabbed my arm and forced me to stay on the ground with him. I reluctantly obeyed and watched as Aragorn, Éomer, Faramir, and Gimli stood and rushed at the four guards. Aragorn unsheathed his sword and cut his guard down quickly. Éomer did the same. Faramir knocked an arrow into his bow and shot down his guard easily, and Gimli wielded his ax straight into the neck of the last guard. All four fell silently.

Aragorn motioned for us to follow. Reithar sprang up excitedly, and I hurried after, Gandalf on my heels. Aragorn pulled the doors open, making a great creaking noise as he did so. I cringed.

"Oh, nice going," Éomer whispered, rolling his eyes. "Sauron heard that from his grave." I snickered, and Aragorn shot us both silencing glances. I looked at Éomer, who rolled his eyes again and seemed to be making a gesture like putting a crown on his head and blabbing his mouth. I suppressed a giggle.

Aragorn ran down the hallway, the rest of us trailing behind. An Uruk-hai came out of a hallway to our left, but Aragorn cut him down easily. He fell with a loud thump as Éomer rolled his eyes again. We ran along as a few more Orcs came up behind us and were quickly shot down by Faramir. Gimli was grunting and murmuring something about always being made to run. I smiled.

"Where are we going?" Aragorn finally whispered to Reithar and me as we neared the end of the hallway. Reithar pointed at the doors to our right up ahead.

"We were being kept in one of these rooms," Reithar whispered in reply.

"The second time we were locked up," I corrected.

"I think these are the torture rooms," Reithar explained. Aragorn nodded. He picked the door closest to us and indicated that he, Reithar, and Éomer should run at it. They broke the door down on the first try. No one was behind it. The second door proved the same. The third, too, and the fourth, and the fifth. We came to the last door. Aragorn, Reithar, and Éomer looked at one another and ran at it, bringing it to the floor as Faramir and Gimli killed the few more Orcs who were coming toward us. The last door lay on the floor, a cloud of dirt and dust rising from under it. I waved it away and coughed as I stepped inside the room. I gasped.

In the middle of a room sat a chair. In the chair was what appeared to be an Elf. The Elf's head was bowed and his golden blonde hair fell forward, caked in blood. The green clothes he had worn were all but torn off. Blood dripped down the Elf's face to his nose and then fell to the floor, making a light splashing noise in the pool of blood below him. Blood also dripped from the ends of his hair to the floor and down both his back and his front. The only thing holding him up was the rope tied around his torso, which was also encrusted with dried blood. As I stared at the Elf before me, I could not breathe. My knees were so weak that they could not hold my body up any longer, and I fell to the floor, eyes wide, breath short. I heard noises behind me but could not make them out. It sounded as if I were underwater and the voices were coming at me from far away. I could barely make out Aragorn's voice shouting a command at another before two strong arms picked me up and turned me away from the horrible sight. A hand covered my eyes and held me close. Someone was whispering in my ear.

"It is alright, Tia, everything is alright. We will help him," a voice said. I felt the hand move away from my eyes and I blinked. Everything was moving in slow-motion. The Man holding onto me was Faramir; he was not looking at me, though, but behind me. His face was full of concern and I thought I saw a tear form in his eyes. What was happening? Behind me, I heard male voices shouting commands. I felt Faramir let me go and stand up; I heard an arrow whiz over my head and the clanking of swords, the dropping of bodies. The world around me began to spin and I realized that I had no air in my lungs. My mouth opened involuntarily and sucked in the dirty air around me. The world stopped spinning and the sounds became more recognizable: the groan of Aragorn as he sliced the head off an Orc, the whizzing of Faramir's arrows, Gimli's loud counting. I stood and spun around, remembering what I had seen.

Orc and Uruk-hai bodies lay on the ground, dead. Aragorn was busy cutting loose the rope that held the Elf to the chair. As Aragorn lifted the head of the Elf to get a better look at his face, my worst fears had been confirmed. I screamed.

"NO!" The word echoed throughout the room and into the hallway, carrying on longer than a word could carry. As I screamed, I ran over to the Elf and buried my face in his bloodstained tunic, sobbing. "Legolas."


	35. The Prophecy and the Journey to Imladris

"He is still alive," Aragorn breathed. My mouth opened again to take another breath. He was still alive. Gimli stood next to me, staring at the Elf before us as tears ran down his face.

"He must get to Rivendell," Gandalf said. "Pick him up. I must call to Shadowfax." Gandalf hurried outside, cutting off a few more Orc heads along the way. I still knelt on the floor in front of Legolas' powerless, injured body. I watched Aragorn and Éomer pick him up gently and carry him like a baby out of the door. Gimli put one hand on my shoulder and sniffled.

"They will save him, lassie," Gimli said, forcing confidence in his voice. I felt another hand on my other shoulder.

"Come, Tialyn," Faramir said, taking his hand off of my shoulder and carefully hoisting me up. "We must go." I nodded and followed Faramir and Gimli back down the hallway and out of the doors. Aragorn and Éomer stood on the steps outside, letting the rain fall on their heads, staring off into the distance. Gandalf and Legolas had already gone.

"How long?" I asked after a moment. The strength in my voice startled me.

"Tia," Aragorn said, turning toward me and putting his arms around me. I clenched my teeth angrily.

"How…_LONG_?"

"Legolas will be in Rivendell in two days," Aragorn assured me. "Shadowfax rides hard, and knows there is much need for haste."

"Will he make it?" I asked as tears formed in my eyes and my voice became weaker.

"I trust in Gandalf," Aragorn said. "He will not let Legolas pass." I nodded before burying my head in Aragorn's chest and crying. A little while later, after we were all soaked and freezing again, we resolved to go.

The journey to Imladris from West Emnet was a difficult one. For six days the clouds refused to close again, and the six nights were restless and long. Even the pass through the Misty Mountains did not give us the cover we desired. By the sixth day, I could have died from the cold and miserable conditions. Conversations were usually short, but the seventh day dawned surprisingly brightly and I was able to muster up the strength to ease my curiosity.

"Why are the Orcs attacking Mirkwood?" I asked as we neared Imladris. Aragorn took a deep breath.

"I wondered the same when I first heard of the attacks," Aragorn began. "I thought they were a large but unproblematic group of Orcs, for the most part. A passing idea sprung into my head about the Orcs' intentions, but it was, as I said, fleeting, and I forgot about it when at first the Orcs' attacks were easily repelled. After the fights started claiming Elves' lives, I went to Thranduil and recited the prophecy."

"The prophecy?" I asked, confused. Aragorn nodded.

"'When all of the Elf-Kings have passed, the time of the Man shall end and the smaller creatures shall inherit Middle-earth.'"

I was completely baffled. A prophecy I had never heard of talked of the reign of Orcs? Aragorn saw the puzzled look on my face.

"The Orcs naturally believe they are the smaller creatures the prophecy mentions," Aragorn started again, thoughtfully. "I do not agree." I pondered it for a moment, but could think of nothing to disprove the Orcs' theory. "So, the Orcs are trying to kill all of the Elf-Kings who still live. Galadriel and Celeborn have sailed to the Undying Lands. Rivendell is a much better protected kingdom than that of Mirkwood, so the Orcs have begun there."

"But that plan seems seriously flawed," I considered aloud. "First of all, prophecies usually refer to the happening of things naturally," Aragorn nodded in agreement. "And secondly, if they kill Thranduil, then Legolas would simply take over the kingdom, so would they not have to kill Legolas too?"

"I think they planned to," Aragorn replied. "But first, they wanted to attain Thranduil's location; something they were sure Legolas knew." I nodded, watching Aragorn mull over the possibilities. I regretted this time in our lives, because I so missed the way everything used to be between us. I missed harmlessly flirting with the most gorgeous Man I had ever met. I missed his cheeky smile. Damn it all, I remembered. I missed Legolas' cheeky comments, too, and his (until recently) fruitless chase of my love. I even missed Nimaroel's snide comments. And the wine. I missed the wine. It was as Legolas had described it. When you begin a journey to save Middle-earth, you want everything back the way it was, and when you do finally return from the journey, you find that nothing is the same. My heart broke for Frodo as I walked along, feeling only a minute amount of the hunger, loss, sorrow, and exhaustion Frodo must have felt by the time he reached Mount Doom. Poor little Hobbit. Then, something in my brain clicked.

"_Hobbits_!" I exclaimed. Of course! "The prophecy refers to Hobbits!" Aragorn laughed.

"That is also the way I interpreted it," Aragorn agreed, still smiling. "But we cannot be sure." He winked. Silly Orcs! Of course the prophecy referred to Hobbits! Four of them (with great help, of course) managed to save Middle-earth and destroy Sauron. How could the prophecy possibly refer to anyone else? I contemplated the prophecy as we walked, leading our horses we had left behind on the way to West Emnet. Only a short while later, we arrived in Imladris. We passed under the gorgeous wood-workings of my friends, but I did not take in the beauty of the place. Instead, I rushed forward, running all the way to the hospital wing and bursting through the doors.

I ran to the bed I knew with my heart was his. I saw his pale, nearly lifeless face and began to cry. His lips were dry and white, his skin was the color of his hair. They had washed the blood off, but wounds lay across his face and on every part of his body that was visible. I put my hand on top of his and felt the cold, clammy feeling of one who has died. I noticed how dirty my hand was on top of his, and immediately felt both disgusting and depressed. I started to cry.

Moments later, I heard footsteps behind me. Aragorn put his arm on my shoulder reassuringly.

"He has been here for five days and is doing much better." I looked at him quizzically as if asking how much worse it could have been than it was now. "He will survive this."

"I hope so," I said weakly.

"Have some faith," Aragorn said. "And do not leave his side." I nodded. "I must go now."

"Where are you going?" I asked almost helplessly. Aragorn's eyes softened.

"Oh, Tia, I do not wish to leave you here alone, but we must all go back to Mirkwood. There is still much fighting to be done. We have to win this war or they will never stop hunting Legolas or Thranduil," Aragorn explained, kissing my forehead affectionately.

"You _must _win this war, then."

"I promise you we will," he said, grabbing my hand and squeezing it before turning and walking away. I watched after him for a moment before turning back around to Legolas, pulling up a chair, and falling asleep on it.


	36. Recovery

With the next fourteen days, nothing had changed much. I had received a rather pleasing letter that notified me, in Aragorn's scrawling handwriting, that they had rescued Cladeth from the Orc-prison, and she was not badly wounded. I hated to admit to myself I had forgotten about Cladeth in my seemingly drunken wanderings around Imladris over the past few days. When I was alone, my mind did not stray from the bleeding, dying Elf I had seen in West Emnet. I had terrible nightmares about it, and the image would not leave me alone. I was afraid to sleep, and went days at a time without it until exhaustion overcame me and my eyes closed; every time I would wake up with the terrifying thought of Legolas dead in that chair, tied and beaten. I was the only one around to console myself when the dreams woke me up in the middle of the night.

I fell sick, and stayed in the hospital wing in a bed beside Legolas for a while. During my stay, I constantly awoke to soaking blankets and indescribable chills. My nightmares stayed with me, but I fought to rid myself of them, and had regained the ability to walk on my own two feet after a few days of bed rest.

"You look awful," a kind voice behind me joked. I turned around, forgetting where I was and what I had been thinking before the interruption. I saw a soft face, illuminated by the setting sun.

"Thanks," I forced a half-smile. "Should you not be in Mirkwood, fighting once again to save Middle-earth?"

"I do not think it is so serious," Faramir laughed. "The battle is waning." This was good news, but I failed to look too excited. "Smile, Tialyn, for we are winning and soon everything will be back the way it was before."

"I somehow doubt that," I admitted, sitting down on a stone bench inside a beautiful courtyard I had forgotten I was in.

"Why?" Faramir asked, sitting beside me.

"I cannot forget what I have seen," I started, my voice catching in my throat a little. Faramir allowed me to rest my head on his shoulder.

"Do not despair at a victory, Tialyn," Faramir said. "Legolas will survive, and Aragorn will survive. Your friend is on her way to Rivendell right now, and everything is going our way."

"But--" I began, but Faramir cut me off.

"It is a waste of what time we have left to suffer over nothing," he said, looking into the darkening sky above us. "Nothing is as bad as you are making it seem." Despite my previous loss of hope, I found meaning in his wise words and I seemed to understand. We were winning the war, and it was only a little war to begin; the people who defeated Sauron were fighting a band of Orcs and I had no right to despair. I lost no one, at least not yet, and nothing I had experienced was anything near the horrors the four Hobbits had been faced with, or even what Legolas had seen. I was being weak. Faramir and I sat in thoughtful silence for a while, but my thoughts were overwhelming me and I needed more conversation.

"How is Éowyn?"

"She waits in Ithilien for my return," Faramir said as if in a dream. I smiled, feeling his love for her. "She wanted to fight, but I begged her to stay behind. The thought of losing her is too much to bear," he explained. Seeing the look on my face, I could tell he wanted to erase what he had just said as a nod to my current situation. "But," he hesitated, "well, you know, I…well…fine. Éowyn is fine."

"It's alright," I shrugged off the awkward moment. Faramir inhaled deeply.

"He will mend," he assured me. I nodded, picturing the pale white color of his skin, the cracks in his dry lips, the cold of his hands, and the lashes across his body. I could feel the lashes on my own skin so well that sometimes I actually let escape a cry. My entire body ached for Legolas.

Tears must have formed in my eyes at the thought, because Faramir said, "Do not cry, my lady. Legolas is strong. You must be strong for him, too."

The next day I woke as the sun poured in upon my face. I breathed and stretched, groaning a little and turning my head to the right, to where Legolas was lying on his bed. To my astonishment, his eyes were open. I had not seen the honey brown in his eyes in so long I had almost forgotten how gorgeous I felt with them upon me, but I would soon remember. Legolas blinked.

"Legolas!" I exclaimed, jumping from my bed and hurrying to his, taking his hand in mine and crying with joy. "You are alright," I breathed. "You…you…"

"Shh," he managed, pulling me weakly onto the bed with him. I crawled into his arms, snuggling beside him with my face pressed into his neck. "I am here now," he whispered. I let the tears soak into his skin, which seemed brighter than the day before. "Tialyn, is my father alive?"

I spent a while lying in his arms, telling him what news I had received. I told him of the night we found him, but left out the details; they were too painful to speak aloud. I mentioned our trek back to Imladris. I told him of the letter I received from Aragorn, assuring me of Cladeth's safety. I told him of my meeting with Faramir, and the news he had given me of our pending victory over the Orcs. Legolas looked relieved, despite my lack of real information regarding his father. All we knew was that we were winning, and that was a comforting thought.

---Sorry, guys, I know this chapter is short and, for the most part, action-less; I must admit I am rather exhausted with finishing it, but I know how it will end and where I want it to go. I just have to get it there first. Hopefully you enjoyed thischapter nonetheless. It just seems that with every new chapter, I am as exhausted as the characters I have created. I feel as if I have gone through this story with them, and have fought in every battle and came out wounded every time. However, I promise I am still working, and will not stop until the story is over. Thanks for reading (and reviewing, if you do). You guys keep me writing.---


	37. Back to Normal

Sorry guys, I know it has been a couple of weeks. I have been busy shopping for things for my dorm room and making lists, preparing myself for college, meeting my roommate (she's from New York!). Then last week I went to Panama City, Florida with my boyfriend to visit his mom and did not bring my computer with me. It was a much-needed break from reality for a while. Now I'm back and I'm ready to finish this thing, so hear goes another chapter!

------------------------------------------------

Later that day, Cladeth arrived. She found me lying in Legolas' bed.

"Tia," she whispered, nudging my arm to wake me. I mumbled something incomprehensible before sitting up and looking around. I realized Legolas had spoken, and he was alright. I still felt pain all over my body where Legolas' wounds were, but the pain had weakened as Legolas grew stronger and his wounds started to heal. I looked up at Cladeth, who was hovering over me, grinning brightly.

"Cladeth!" I whispered, carefully climbing out of bed to hug her. "I am so glad you are alright." She nodded, and we walked together outside of the hospital wing.

"I met someone while I was in Mirkwood, after they freed me," she began. I saw brightness in her eyes I had never seen before, and knew immediately this was good news. "Reithar," she said.

"_Reithar_?" I jumped.

"He told me he was in the prison cell with you," Cladeth said, her eyes still lit. "He said he has never met someone as strong as you." I beamed. "He is so lovely, Tia."

"He is a very nice Elf," I agreed. Walking outside, letting the sun soak into my skin for the first time in a while, I felt rejuvenated. Something about that day was good. It was the little things; Legolas' awakening, Cladeth's return and her good news, and the thought that we might win this war. I could not remember the last time I was as happy. Hope was all I needed.

"Thranduil has returned to his castle," Cladeth said. I furrowed my brow.

"_Why_? Is that not dangerous?"

"He does not seem to think so," she mused, "and no one else was worried about it, either."

"Does that mean--"

"The war is over, Tialyn. Well, not completely, but we have won and we know it," Cladeth explained. I drew in a deep breath, realizing what this meant. It was finally the end of the fighting and the fear, and I would get to spend time with Legolas without worrying about him running off again. I had almost lost him because of this war, and I refused to get that near to it again.

I took my leave of Cladeth and went back to Legolas' side. He was awake again, and smiling at me with those pale lips that still had not regained their natural color.

"Your father has returned," I said softly, brushing his golden hair away from his face. His honey brown eyes softened.

"Then the war is won," Legolas choked. I could tell he was very thankful, but worried that he was wrong and his father had returned too soon.

"Cladeth said it was almost completely over," I confirmed. He smiled and nodded before drifting back off to sleep.

I spent the rest of the day outside, letting the sun heal what wounds I had acquired and thinking of how peaceful everything in Imladris was at that moment. I was too caught up in my thoughts to feel the presence of someone standing behind me.

"You look healthier than last I saw you," the Man behind me said. Startled out of my thoughts, I turned around quickly and my surprise subsided.

"Aragorn, you are back!" I exclaimed happily, jumping into his arms. He laughed.

"And who would I rather see than my favorite Elf?"

"Your other favorite Elf?" I suggested, indicating Arwen. Aragorn pretended to shrug her off, but could only grin.

"Of course I have seen her, too, but she is not near as important as you," Aragorn countered, pinching my bottom slightly.

"_Aragorn_!" I exclaimed, shocked. This was the behavior of the Man I had known most of his life and not what he had become recently. All of his misgivings about our flirtatious relationship seemed to have vanished, and the cheek had returned in his voice and mannerisms. I was so overjoyed that Aragorn had actually pinched my rear end that I jumped into his arms again instead of slapping him, as I would have done as of recently. He laughed again as I squeezed his neck.

"Why so excited on my behalf?" he asked suggestively as I let him go.

"Am I not always excited around you, my Lord?" I joked.

"Not as of late, but then your love is bed-ridden and can neither hear nor see what is being said between us," he teased. I grinned. Thank Ilúvatar this had gone back to normal. It was hard living without it for so long, when everything inside me longed to flirt with this handsome, wonderful Man. After more teasing and verbal harassment, Aragorn left to find his wife and I returned to Legolas' side. Even though I had only been gone for the afternoon, he had seemed to heal somewhat even in the short while. His lips had more color, as did his face, and his honey browns were deeper than they had been lately. I reminded myself not to underestimate the healing power of Imladris.

"I think I am ready to get out of this bed," Legolas said at my return.

"Please do not hurt yourself," I implored, but Legolas had already sat upright and was putting his feet on the floor. He was dressed in only a white gown, his feet bare. I could tell the marble floor of the hospital wing was cold to the touch, because he cringed a bit when his feet hit the floor. As soon as he had stood, I saw the wounds disappear. His strength had returned and I knew in that moment Legolas could have run a lap around Imladris if he had wanted.

"I must go to Mirkwood," he said almost immediately. I nodded because I understood Legolas' want to see his father again and make sure everything was going according to plan. "Come with me," he said as an afterthought, grabbing my hands and looking into my eyes as he towered over me. How could I resist?

"Of course," I agreed. The two of us found the nurse and she gave Legolas his clothes back. Then, we found Aragorn and Arwen and bid them farewell for the moment. Aragorn did not forget to nonchalantly slap my behind as Legolas and I walked away in search of horses. I would have reacted, but as soon as I turned my head, Aragorn's finger flew to his lips in a gesture that meant "don't tell," so I winked instead and hurried off with Legolas. Everything really was back to normal.


	38. The Return to Mirkwood

Upon our arrival in Mirkwood, we were bombarded with familiar faces. Reithar was there, asking about Cladeth. Nimaroel was there, and she threw herself into Legolas' arms and burst into tears of joy. I could tell he was a bit embarrassed, but he patted her on the back nonetheless and thanked her for her concern. She hugged me too, thanking me for saving Mirkwood. She was still a bit delusional from everything she had seen, I supposed, and had not the heart to tell her I had not single-handedly fought off all the Orcs in Mirkwood and rescued Legolas, healed him, and brought him back. Besides, I liked the idea that I had that kind of power. All of Legolas' friends were gathered around us, greeting their Prince. The young Caseleth, the first Mirkwood Elf I had met besides Legolas, with the blue eyes and platinum hair hugged Legolas in a brotherly manner. Also there were the Elves I had met at Legolas' "Welcome Home" party, Kaon, Amadrim, and Lysela greeting Legolas fondly. Even Lafathnin was there, smiling but not daring to hug either Legolas or myself. I noticed he was arm-in-arm with another Elf maiden, whose long, blond hair shone brilliantly. She was obviously young and a bit naïve, but I instantly forgave her because her beauty was too radiant to forget. I had never seen her before, but I could tell she was the perfect match for the gorgeous Lafathnin. When Legolas was not looking, I waved at him slightly, and he nodded in return, still smiling.

When we had finally gotten through all the excited Elves and most of them had dispersed (except for a few stragglers and, of course, Nimaroel), I saw a familiar figure walking down the stairs toward us. He was slightly round and jovial-looking, his golden blond hair falling neatly down his back and his brown eyes wide and shining. A smile was displayed across his old face, and he seemed in a hurry to reach us.

"Father!" Legolas exclaimed, running up the stairs and meeting King Thranduil in the middle. He hopped into his father's arms as a child would into their mother's. Thranduil laughed loudly and embraced his son in return. The scene was almost exactly like the meeting between the two when we had first arrived in Mirkwood after Aragorn and Arwen's wedding.

"Legolas, I am so glad you are not hurt. I was so worried," Thranduil said after a while. Even from where I stood, I could see tears in his eyes. Legolas hugged his father harder before finally letting go.

"I am alright, father, with the help of the healers of Imladris and the love of this Elf," Legolas said, indicating me. I blushed, not taking any credit for Legolas' recovery. "And I am glad you have returned, but are you quite sure it is safe?"

"Son, I assume you passed no Orcs on your way here," Thranduil said. Legolas shook his head.

"We only saw burnt trees," he hung his head a bit in sorrow. "They were hurting."

"I know, son," Thranduil said, putting his left hand on Legolas' right shoulder. "We will help the wood to heal as we have, but in the meantime we must remember that the Orcs are gone from these lands, and we are free." Legolas nodded.

"Come, father," Legolas beseeched him. "I have much to say." Thranduil nodded, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. He smiled and waved at me, and I returned the gesture, watching the two Greenleaves retreat up three flights of stairs and into Thranduil's room that doubled as his office. I was left amid the stragglers in the foyer, wondering what Legolas and Thranduil were up to.

After a moment, Nimaroel approached me.

"Would you like something to eat? A room to stay in? I can help," she said, almost begging me to take her up on her offer.

"Sure," I agreed and let Nimaroel lead me into the same room which had become so familiar to me upon my stay in Mirkwood. I had a feeling I would not need to stay in this room much longer, for Legolas would implore me to stay with him (and I would accept, of course…grudgingly, you see…I am not fooling you, am I?). I sat on the bed anyway, waiting for Nimaroel to bring me something to eat. I would usually ask her not to bother, but she seemed so eager to be of some help that I let the poor Elf do what she wanted.

A while (and three full meals) later, a knock came at my door. "Nima," I groaned from my bed. "I could not possibly eat any--" The door creaked open anyway, and a timid Legolas stood in the doorway. "Legolas!" I exclaimed, sitting up immediately and wiping crumbs off my dress. "I did not expect you. Where have you been?"

"Wishing I was with you," he said smoothly, slipping into my room and shutting the door behind him.

"You are not planning to be naughty, are you?" I asked, my grin betraying the question. Legolas' eyes twinkled with mischief. "You should not be doing anything to strain yourself after your recovery," I said proudly, brushing him off. He hopped in my bed and scooted toward me as if it was his birthday and I had a present for him. "Legolas, _really_," I grinned. He smiled back before pressing his body against mine and kissing me passionately, one hand behind my head. He forced me onto my back and crawled on top of me, taking off his clothes. I saw, to my chagrin, whip marks all over his body. They had faded dramatically since last I had seen them, and the ones on his face had completely disappeared, but the deeper marks around his body were still visible. In my passion for the moment, I had completely forgotten about the scars. At the reminder, I shivered.

"They do not hurt," Legolas whispered, his face hovering over mine. He must have realized I was staring. He kissed my lower lip lightly and began to take my dress off. "Do not worry." I nodded and allowed him to undress me and put me under his irresistible spell. The rest of the night was ours.


	39. A Proposal

The next morning, Legolas told me to wear my best dress. I had only brought one; the red one I had worn the night after Aragorn and Arwen's wedding. Legolas had failed to mention the reason for my dressing up, or even the reason for the party (I assumed it was another "Welcome Home, Legolas" party, or perhaps a "We Won" party, or "The Orcs Are Gone, Let Us Drink Wine" party; really, Elves found any excuse for partying, and maybe the party was all of these in one). Nevertheless, I dressed my best and pulled back part of my curly, red hair behind my head like Legolas so often did.

I found my way out of my room that night and upstairs to the place where the last party had been held. I was greeted by pleased looks from all over the room, many a bit lustful in nature. Lafathnin was staring at me, to the vexation of his little Elf maiden, who stomped away. I found a glass of wine in my hand in no time at all, and I was making small talk with the various Elves I recognized from my stay in Mirkwood. Finally, Legolas showed up. He looked, well, bloody amazing. He was wearing the same sort of tunic and tights and boots that he always wore, but they were a deeper green than I had ever seen. They fabric was so green it was almost as if it had been plucked out of the trees in the wood and sewn together to make a tunic. As if the color was not alluring enough, it also shone with the brightness of a thousand stars above. There was an aura around Legolas I had never noticed before, and he radiated comfort and warmth. He found me immediately, taken aback by the red dress just as he had been the first time he had seen it.

"You look gorgeous," Legolas whispered, taking my arm in his.

"You too," I smiled. I sensed this was a moment for formality instead of playfulness, and I went with it. Legolas whisked me around the party, introducing me to so many Elves I had forgotten all of their names by the middle of the night. That, and I had had quite a few drinks in me. Aragorn had even showed up with Arwen at his side before the party was over, and Legolas and I spent much of our time joking with them (well, joking with Aragorn, mostly, for Arwen was being, well, Arwen).

"Speech!" I finally heard a few Elves yell as Thranduil stood in front of the crowd. I joined in, calling "Speech!" along with the rest of them. Legolas and I were giggling so hard at that point at nothing in particular that the word was even hard to say aloud, but we harassed Thranduil anyway. After many pleas from the crowd, Thranduil raised his hands in surrender. The crowd cheered.

"As you all know, dark times had befallen Mirkwood of late," Thranduil began. Everyone seemed to nod in unison. "After much toil and loss, we have just today run out the last of the Orcs." This was news to me, and apparently to everyone else too (except Legolas), because everyone began cheering very loudly in a victorious manner. "We are free again, and it is now safe to travel in and out of Mirkwood. We had much help from the people of Imladris, and we are grateful to them for healing my son, Legolas." Everyone cheered again, and Legolas bowed his head slightly, smiling. "Speaking of my son," Thranduil began again after the cheers had died down, "I think he has a few words to say as well." I looked at Legolas quizzically. He simply winked at me and said nothing, pulling me to the front of the crowd before leaving my side to stand in front of his audience. Luckily, Aragorn was standing next to me, which made me feel a bit more comfortable about being in front. He grabbed my hand and squeezed it, winking at me too. This was all too strange. Something was up.

"My friends," Legolas began in the same voice in which his father spoke. "We are gathered here tonight to celebrate many things. We are victorious over the Orcs, for instance," this was met with cheers, of course, "and we are all healed, including myself and Aragorn." More applause. "But there is something else I would like to celebrate, if I could." A pause. "Most of you have met the beautiful Elf, Tialyn," he indicated me. I blushed so fast I felt my cheeks burning. Aragorn laughed at me. The crowd was cheering again, everyone agreeing they had met me in some form or other. "I could not have healed without her." Another pause. Silence. "You see, I was captured by the Orcs and taken to their Orc-prison, as Tialyn was. She, alongside a few others, saved me from the prison before it was too late. I must admit that I would not have had the strength to live if it were not for the dreams of her that kept me going. I knew her love for me, and the despair she would have felt if I had passed. She, and others, like Aragorn," he nodded at Aragorn, "and Gimli, who could not be here tonight, and all of the Fellowship have pulled me through this time. She stayed with me when I was bed-ridden, and without her voice talking softly to me at night when she thought I could not hear her, I may not have survived." Tears had begun to form in my eyes; I had not realized the impact I really had on Legolas' recovery.

"She shared my pain; I know because I could feel it lessen every time she came near. She must have taken some of it from me; I do not know by what power she did so, but she did bear some of my pain, allowing me to heal faster. Her love for me saved me, her care for me healed me. I would not be here today if it was not for her, and I want to take this time to thank her for that." Appreciative applause followed, which soon became raucous cheers because everyone was slightly intoxicated. "And," Legolas said above the cheers to make them die down, "and…I have a question for her." Everyone seemed to gasp simultaneously, for they knew now what was coming. I looked around for some sort of clue. What? What was he going to ask me? Legolas walked up to me and got down on one knee. My eyes widened, and my stomach dropped to my toes. My breath caught in my lungs and I was rendered completely unable to breathe. Legolas took my clammy left hand into his hands and cupped it, smiling at me lovingly.

"Tialyn, I love you more than I have ever loved anyone or anything in Middle-earth; you are the light in my world, the stars in my sky, and the love in my heart. You have given me so much more than I thought possible. I have wanted to ask you this from the first moment I met you. You had fallen at the reception of Aragorn and Arwen's wedding, and I caught you. I could not believe my luck, for I had just touched the most beautiful Elf in all of Middle-earth, and despite my teasing at that moment and beyond that, from that moment on, the truth is you have never failed to take my breath away. You are stubborn and selfish at times, but you always redeem yourself in my eyes and nothing you have ever done or could do would stop be from loving you. I have also been selfish in my pursuit of your love, and for that I apologize, but I could not stop myself from wanting to be around you every second of every day since the moment I met you. Despite everything that has happened between us, and _because _of everything that has happened between us, I want to spend the rest of our days together. Will you marry me?" The tears spilled down my cheeks, and the moment after his question was as silent as the Dead Marshes. I swallowed hard and caught my breath when my body forced me to. I could not get any words out, but I slowly nodded my head in agreement. Legolas' smile widened, and he stood up, pressed me to his chest, and kissed me to the sound of deafening cheers.


	40. The End

I woke up the next morning completely unaware of the circumstances of the night before. The rest of the night had been spent "celebrating," which here means drinking ourselves to the point of no return. As I opened my eyes, I realized I was in Legolas' room and he was lying beside me, curled up under the sheets, naked. Well, I must have had a good night. I lay there for a while, staring at the irresistibly attractive Elf sleeping next to me. After a bit, Legolas' eyes fluttered open to see me staring intently at his face. He smiled and moved his face closer to mine, giving me a good morning kiss.

"We are getting married," Legolas said dreamily. I nearly choked. Is it awful to say I had forgotten? I tried to play it off, but Legolas recognized the surprise in my expression. "Tia…you forgot?" In his face I saw hurt and disbelief. I felt pretty lousy.

"N-no," I stuttered unconvincingly. "I remember now." And I did. I remembered the beautiful proposal and the tears in my eyes and the cheers of the crowd. "Legolas, I do want to marry you." I saw relief in his eyes, and he smiled, forgiving my incompetence.

"Well, you may just have to be punished for forgetting in the first place," Legolas said mischievously. I bit my lower lip and he attacked me playfully, pinning me on my back and forcing my arms above my head. He brought his head close to mine and whispered in my ear, "This is your punishment." I giggled as Legolas slipped off both of our clothes and continued to ravage me.

Later that afternoon (after we finally left our room), Legolas and I were greeted with many congratulatory faces. Nimaroel ran up and hugged me reassuringly.

"I do not hate you," she said immediately. I choked back a scoff and Legolas tried to hide a smile.

"Good," I said after a moment of seriously struggling not to laugh. Then, she hugged Legolas a little too long (no, I was not getting protective…I was not!) and finally let go, telling him she would always love him (at which I cleared my throat a bit) but she was happy that he was happy. She bid us farewell and hurried away.

"That was awkward," Legolas said after he was sure she was out of earshot. I nodded and laughed, grabbing Legolas' hand and walking with him outside of the castle. We walked into the woods, pausing to listen to the trees whisper. They talked of victory, but I could sense beneath the surface was a deep sorrow for their dead brothers. So many trees had been set aflame and so many did not survive the Orc attacks. I nearly started crying, feeling the intense pain of the trees. Legolas was silent and grim, wandering from tree to tree. He seemed to be coaxing them, trying to ease their grief; I think it was working because with every touch of Legolas' hand upon the bark, the intense pain lessened a little.

"You are sharing their pain like I shared yours," I said after a while of watching him try to heal the trees. He seemed a bit startled, as if he had forgotten I was there in his deep concentration. He looked at me and smiled lovingly and thankfully, coming over to me and putting his arms around me.

"I love you," Legolas whispered.

"I love you too," I whispered back.

Legolas and I continued walking through the wood, hand-in-hand, feeling the trees' anguish. It was an easy emotion for us to carry with us and share, for the happiness we both felt in each other's presence was enough to counter the sorrow. As we walked, I thought of all of the encounters I had made since Aragorn and Arwen's wedding: Anathor, my first trip to Mirkwood, Lafathnin, Nimaroel, a war, the feeling of loss and helplessness, and, finally, true happiness. I realized at that moment that everything had been worth it to get where I was at that moment, and nothing that came in the future would cause me to forget. Everything I had been through, I had made it through, and no matter what I would go through, Legolas would be at my side from now until the end of the world; and that was a comforting thought. A happy ending for both of us became a happy beginning to the rest of our lives, and it started today. Ilúvatar, what had I gotten myself into? As that thought crossed my mind, I smiled.

THE END


	41. Afterword

Well, I finished my first serious story—ever. It's a big accomplishment for me, and I really wanted to thank each and every one of you who read and enjoy (whether or not you review) my story. You can't possibly know what it means to me to hear you say you like it. I don't know how many of you have read my bio, but I want to be a writer for the rest of my life, so having people enjoy my story is more than just an ego boost for me. It really does give me hope for the future, that I will be able to write something of meaning and have it published and have people enjoy it. I know this is just a fanfiction (I fought whether or not to write "silly fanfiction," but I have to admit I really love this story…it is sort of like my baby) but it is important to me that I was able to start it, have a middle, and finish it. It is something I have never accomplished before. I cannot promise I will write anything else soon as my time by the end of this summer will have run very short, what with me going to college and all, but I will keep reading the reviews and probably keep fixing the story; so, if you are ever rereading it and you come upon a change, just know that it's me trying to perfect something I spent half a year writing. I may never really be happy with it completely, or happy with the ending (because I hate endings), but I am happy that you guys are happy with it. That is the most important thing. Anyway, I have gotten off on a tangent – this is really just to say thank you. So, thank you: it has meant everything to me.


	42. Somewhat of an Author's Note

**Somewhat of an Author's Note**

In case you faithful readers didn't already know, I have begun writing a new story! It's called **Father Time Tells All**, and I hope you all take the time to read it (and review, if you want!). I know I said I probably wouldn't start a new story, but it was just itching to come out. I'm not particularly great at summaries, but it's about an Elf who leaves Mirkwood for five hundred years, and returns to find everything has changed. It happens during The Lord of the Rings, so that should make it interesting (and challenging!). Anyway, enjoy!


End file.
